


The Prince on Earth

by life42universe



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asmodeus Being an Asshole (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Dark Magnus Bane, Edom (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Edom Angst (Shadowhunter Chronicles), M/M, Magnus Bane in Edom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 40,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24441376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/life42universe/pseuds/life42universe
Summary: Canon divergence after the end of 3X20What would have happened if Maryse hadn't decided to take her son's love life into her own hands? Magnus is with Asmodeus when the rift opens in Alicante. He can't run to Alec's aid, doesn't know that Alec loves him, and still can't see the people he loves most die. So, he cuts a deal. One year being his father's Prince of Hell for the sake of someone who doesn't love him anymore.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Catarina Loss, Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Asmodeus & Magnus Bane, Magnus Bane & Catarina Loss, Magnus Bane & Isabelle Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 226
Kudos: 329





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the result of falling down a Shadowhunters rabbit hole like you would not believe. It's completely written and in the process of being edited. I should be updating at least twice a week until it's done. 
> 
> Honestly, I just feel like we got cheated out of some serious angst and getting to see Magnus be darkly fabulous. Figured I'd take the opportunity to see what could have been.
> 
> Enjoy!

“You didn’t kill him.” Magnus looked down at the lizard stoically. He’d expected fire and brimstone, not a simple transformation spell.

“And you didn’t save him.” Asmodeus’s voice was soft as silk, and he could almost feel the approval in the words.

Magnus felt a shiver run up his spine. He hadn’t lifted a finger. He’d expected Lorenzo to go up in a column of hellfire, and he’d done nothing to stop it. He was alive due to Asmodeus's restraint, not Magnus’s interference. Magnus blinked slowly, watching the lizard next to Magnus’s martini glass, standing in the middle of the loft that he’d lived in for more than half a century. This man had tortured him, humiliated him, given him magic and taken it away. He was the symbol of when everything had started to go so horribly wrong in Magnus’s life. 

“Well, as far as roommates go, he’ll be quiet.”

“It’s good to be the king, isn’t it?”

Something in him bent, and when Asmodeus walked up and put a hand on his shoulder, he didn’t pull away. 

Magnus walked through the apartment he’d lived in for more than half a century. Proof of Lorenzo’s recent occupancy was everywhere. Every wall had some terrible painting on it. Lorenzo as a saint. Lorenzo as a noble. Lorenzo in a ridiculous matador costume. He waved his hand, and the matador portrait burst into flames, scorching the paint off the canvas. 

He wandered into the bedroom, nose wrinkling at Lorenzo’s decorating choices. Yet another painting of him hung directly over the bed where Alec and Magnus had slept. Magnus restrained himself from burning this one, at least for now. He stared at the bed. Lorenzo’s sheets were tacky red satin, but the bed was the same. How many times had he and Alec fallen into it together? He felt something twist in his chest at the thought of Alec, laughing and exhausted after a night on patrol, dragging Magnus into bed early just so he could hold him. He’d always thought that Alec loved him for who he was, not just the magic he possessed. He felt the pain of losing him all over again, their words echoing in his head. 

_Stay with me. Okay? Come on, stay with me._

_Magnus, I can’t. ___

__He slipped his hand in his pocket, feeling for his talisman, his omamori charm that Alec had brought him from Tokyo, so long ago. He ran his fingers over its edges, trying to calm himself down. It had always brought him peace, in the past. But then again, so had Alec. He pulled the charm out, holding it loosely in his hand. Once upon a time, it had meant that Alec loved him._ _

__

__He was distracted by a sudden pressure in his chest, a ringing in his ears. Something was wrong. He stumbled out to the living room, slipping the charm back into his pocket. He paled at the sight of his father, a grin on his face that made Magnus shiver. “What happened?”_ _

__“Something unexpected.” Asmodeus always sound calm, collected. But there was a glee in his tone that turned Magnus’s blood to ice in his veins. Nothing good could come from that happy, self-satisfied tone._ _

__Asmodeus gestured, and Magnus’s floor turned transparent. But instead of looking into his kind, if a little deaf, downstairs neighbor’s living room, he was looking at an aerial view of a city. Cobblestone streets wound between tightly packed homes and businesses. Above them all, glass-tipped towers loomed at strategic points. They should have been glowing a soft white. Instead, they were dark, only barely reflecting the blood red color of the sky above them. Yellow lightning cracked, and black things with beating wings filled the sky. Magnus felt his stomach drop through his toes. “Alicante.”_ _

__

__Alec stared out the window of the Gard. Demons. Falling from the sky, attacking the towers, ripping Shadowhunters off their feet. The rift between dimensions was like an open wound in the sky above them. Looking at it felt wrong. Demons poured out of it, diving toward them. He watched for a moment longer as Shadowhunters with glowing seraph blades tried desperately to fight demons that were staying just out of reach, above their heads. He reached for the paper he always kept in his pocket to write a fire message to Magnus, then stopped himself. With a lurch, he remembered. Magnus couldn’t be here. He blew out a slow breath and turned to walk down the hallway, nearly running into his sister._ _

__“We need help,” Izzy said immediately. “We need to close the rift. Have you called Magnus, yet?”_ _

__Alec’s jaw set and he shook his head, letting the glamour go from his bow and quiver as he pushed past Izzy to walk down the hallway. “Magnus can’t help us.”_ _

__“He can tell us who to contact to try to close that thing. We may need Lorenzo’s help. We may need everyone’s help, Alec.”_ _

__Alec’s hands were shaking. “Iz, we can’t call Magnus. I can’t- We can’t talk to him, okay? We have to handle this on our own.”_ _

__Izzy had to run to block his way. His legs were longer than hers, and he’d been using that to his advantage. She put her hand on his chest to stop him. “Are you telling me that you chose the day demons rip into Alicante to break up with your boyfriend?”_ _

__Alec was pale. His jaw was set. He didn’t say a word._ _

__“Doesn’t that mean he has his magic back? Alec, we need him. The demons are being banished right to the other side of the rift. They’re just going to keep coming back. We can’t do this without someone to seal it, keep them from coming back.” She searched his eyes as if trying to make him understand._ _

__“Do you think I don’t know that?” Alec’s eyes were a little wild as he glared down at his sister, pushing her hand off his chest. He shook his head. “Come on. We need to defend the city. I can’t- If he sees me, he’ll lose everything, Izzy. Leave him out of this.”_ _

__He started walking again, putting on a burst of speed so that Isabelle had to jog beside him to keep up. He couldn’t call Magnus. He couldn’t reach out to him. Not now. Not ever again. The knowledge sat heavy in his mind as he pulled out his bow._ _

__

__Magnus could control the viewing window, though it had been built by his father. He found Clary and Jace and that evil little hellspawn with the black wings. He couldn’t hear them, but he could see the triumph in the demon’s eyes as he leapt into the air. Magnus wanted to help, but what could he do? His magic couldn’t reach them through the viewing window, and he couldn’t leave a Greater Demon wandering New York by portaling to their sides._ _

__Before he could stop himself, he moved the window, searching for another familiar face. He found Alexander and Izzy standing in a courtyard in the Gard, Alec with multiple arrows on his bowstring, Izzy with her whip at the ready. Magnus tore his eyes away to see the demons flying toward them. Their claws were sharp, their eyes glowed a dark orange, and even if they died, they’d only reform outside of the rift. No matter how bravely the Shadowhunters fought, they were all going to die._ _

__“He left you.” Asmodeus’s voice was almost a purr in his ear. Magnus shivered. “He abandoned you, Magnus. He’s caused you so much pain. The problem is about to resolve itself. Shadowhunters always die so young. You knew that, even when you were with him.”_ _

__Izzy’s whip flashed, Alec’s bow released, and demons fell from the sky. But there were more, always more. Magnus watched Alec pull back his bow again. He wanted to feel angry or satisfied or glad that this was happening. All he felt was terror. “End it.”_ _

__Asmodeus grinned. “Gladly. I can call a much stronger host and have them focus on him, easily.”_ _

__Magnus shook his head. “No.” He looked up, eyes wide and dark. “Close the rift. Pull your demons back. Lock them away in Edom.”_ _

__Asmodeus raised an eyebrow. “And why would I do that?”_ _

__Magnus swallowed hard. “Because I’ll give you what you want from me.”_ _

__Asmodeus blinked, his cat’s eyes catching the light in a way that couldn’t have been natural. “My son. You’ll come home.”_ _

__“One year,” Magnus said quietly. “I’ll go to Edom for a year. No questions asked. I won’t fight you. And you’ll seal the rift.” He had nothing holding him here. Alexander wouldn’t miss him. The Shadowhunters would be fine without him. What did he really have, if he stayed? He was no longer the High Warlock. Everyone thought his magic was gone. He’d lost the man he loved. “I will rule beside you, a willing partner, for one year.” He looked up at his father. “I’ll learn what you teach me. I’ll do my best to make you proud. I won’t just go. I’ll willingly go. But you have to save them.”_ _

__

__Alec saw Izzy fall out of the corner of his eye. He shouted her name and launched himself at the demon that was on top of her. He shot an arrow mid-leap, but the stupid thing turned at the last moment and the arrow hit his shoulder instead of his chest. It knocked the bow from Alec’s hands. He grabbed a seraph blade from his belt, stabbing the creature in the base of its neck. As it started to vanish, he collapsed next to his sister. He was bleeding from a long cut down his side that he’d barely even noticed as he grabbed for his stele, trying to activate Izzy’s Iratze._ _

__

__“If Alec dies, the deal is null and void,” Magnus said quickly, eyes on the window. “Now, or while I’m in Edom. Make your decision quickly, Asmodeus, they’re not going to last much longer.”_ _

__“You want me to act as a Shadowhunter’s guardian angel? I will not.” Asmodeus’s voice was cruel, cold._ _

__Magnus shook his head. “He will not die by the hand of any of your demons. That’s the deal.” He held out his shaking hand for Asmodeus, offering himself for a man who no longer loved him. A man who was looking pale and shaky through the window on his floor._ _

__Asmodeus’s eyes seemed to glow. The demon that was crawling toward Alexander hesitated, then stopped, turning away and heading back toward the void. Asmodeus reached for Magnus’s hand. Skin touched skin, and Magnus felt like he was already burning._ _

__

__Demon ichor stained Alec’s clothes, his hands, his hair. He was covered in it. “Okay,” he panted at Izzy. “Okay, we need to- We have to call Magnus.” She was only semi-conscious, bleeding badly from a wound on her head. He stroked her hair back from her forehead. “Iz, come on, talk to me.”_ _

__“Alec.”_ _

__He could have sagged with relief. He moved his unsteady hand through her hair again, vaguely aware that he was bleeding, himself. He gathered her in his arms as gently as he could, helping her half lay in his lap. He needed an Iratze. He needed to find Jace. He was building a list in his head, trying to figure out how they were ever going to get out of this. “It’s okay, Izzy, I’m right here. You’re fine. You’re perfectly fine.”_ _

__“No, Alec, look.”_ _

__He frowned at her before turning to see what she was looking at. The next wave of demons that had been flying toward Alicante from the rift had turned, mid-flight. The red rip in the sky was closing with a bright blue light. The halves were stitching together, the demons disappearing between them. Alec stared at it incredulously, then glanced around. The Shadowhunters around him all shared the same expression of mute disbelief. None of them had caused this. “Maybe- maybe Clary and Jace were able to kill Jonathan?” The opening closed completely. The night sky was scattered with stars, beautiful and silent. The demons were gone. Somehow, without any explanation, the Shadowhunters had won the day._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments and the kudos on the last chapter! It always makes me smile to know that someone's enjoying what I'm writing.
> 
> Cheers!

“What did you do to him?”

Alec looked up with a quiet sigh. He was exhausted. He hadn’t slept since before his breakup with Magnus, and it was starting to show, no matter how many energy runes he carved into his skin. He looked up to see Catarina standing in the doorway of his office, arms crossed over her chest. He’d never seen her so angry. Her glamour was flickering, sapphire skin showing through the usual dark brown. He blinked, tipping his head. “What do you mean? Who’s him?”

“Who do you think?” Her tone was icy, and he had a feeling that if they weren’t in an Institute full of Shadowhunters, she might be doing a hell of a lot more than glaring. 

Alec shook his head. “Catarina, I have dozens of Shadowhunters dead from a demon attack. Jonathan is still at large, and we have no way of tracking him down. Izzy’s in medical because one of those demons poisoned her, and Clary’s trying to figure out some way to track her brother. You’re going to need to be a lot more specific when it comes to what ‘him’ you’re talking about.”

“Magnus Bane.”

The name hit him like an arrow through the heart, and he had to close his eyes for a moment. “Cat,” he said quietly, “I know- I know he’s probably upset, but he’ll be fine. He’s lost people like me before. He’ll recover.” It was the same reasoning he’d been using with himself, constantly, since he’d decided it was the right thing to do. Magnus was used to losing the people he loved. One Shadowhunter wouldn’t make a difference in all of that.

Catarina walked toward his desk slowly. “So, you’re telling me that you dumped him,” she said quietly. “He lost his magic, and you dumped him. He gave everything up for you, and you turned around and threw it in his face, and now he’s gone missing.”

Alec’s eyes flashed up to meet hers. “Missing? What do you mean, missing?”

“I mean missing.” Cat huffed in frustration, shaking her head. “I knew it. I told him not to date one of the Nephilim. You lot are so self-obsessed, it’s ridiculous. You didn’t even know, did you? He’s been gone for days, Alec.”

“Magnus is missing?” Alec’s voice was calm, perfectly calm, his hands steady. His eyes were dark and serious, the tension in his shoulders the only thing that could possibly give him away. “I know he left the Institute. We broke up. But have you tried any of his usual places? Not necessarily the ones in New York?”

Catarina raised an eyebrow. “Well, his loft has been taken over by the current High Warlock of Brooklyn, and that’s the only place he owns that’s residential in the city. And how is he supposed to have gotten to anywhere that isn’t New York? He doesn’t exactly own a car, and portaling is tough when you give up your magic to save your boyfriend’s parabatai.”

Alec grit his teeth, taking a steadying breath. Nothing that she was saying was technically wrong, but Magnus should have his magic back, by now. He would have thought Cat would’ve been one of his first calls, once it happened. The fact that he hadn’t talked to her wasn’t necessarily distressing, but it wasn’t reassuring. Asmodeus had to go through with his deal, didn’t he? “Have you tried calling him? Maybe he’s staying with Dot or somebody while he looks for a new place.”

Cat snorted. “He’d be staying with me, Alec, if he was staying with anyone, and he’s not. I’ve been calling him on repeat. He’s not answering. I can’t find him. I can’t track him.”

Alec frowned. “But you must have something of his that would let you find him.”

“Of course I do. I’ve always been able to find Magnus. Those of us who care about each other tend to keep little odds and ends to make sure we can find our friends. And I can’t find him, now. He was here until the night Alicante was attacked, and now there’s nothing, no matter what I do.”

Alec’s blood ran cold. Alicante. You couldn’t track the dead. But no, if Magnus had been there, he would have known. They would have found each other. Alec would have felt it, somehow. Wouldn’t he? He stood from his desk and immediately left the room, leaving Catarina yelling after him. He didn’t stop. He didn’t think. The Institute employed warlocks to create portals, and he found one of them, stepping into the whirling vortex without a moment’s thought. 

Jace was standing in the middle of the Accords Hall, a beautiful building typically used for weddings and celebrations. Tall pillars held up a glass ceiling displaying the bright blue of the Alicante sky. The white marble floor was usually perfectly clean and beautiful. Now, the building was being used as a temporary morgue. There were bodies laid on the marble, covered in white sheets. Family members searching for lost loved ones were milling about, asking questions. The Silent Brothers were preparing the bodies for their funeral services, now that they’d finally found them all. It had been Alec’s call to keep the bodies here, letting people search for their loved ones. 

Jace looked up as a portal appeared right in front of him, tensing and grabbing at his seraph blade. He relaxed when he saw Alec, though there was something a little wild about his eyes. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in New York?”

“Is he here?”

Jace blinked. “Is who here? What’re you talking about?” He felt a wave of emotion flood their parabatai bond, stronger than he’d felt since the attack. Panic. Dread. A terror that made him feel vaguely sick to his stomach. He almost lost his balance as it overwhelmed him. “Holy crap, Alec, what’s going on?”

“Magnus.” Alec walked up to him, grabbing Jace’s shoulder. “Is Magnus here? Is he dead?”

Jace blinked. Immediately, he shook his head. “No. No, Alec, he wasn’t here. He wasn’t in the battle at all.”

“You’re sure?” His grip on Jace’s shoulder was painful. “You’re positive that he isn’t here?”

Jace nodded, reaching up to pry Alec’s fingers out of his skin. “You’re going to leave a bruise. And yes, I’m sure. The battle was short. The list of casualties isn’t too long, and they’re all Shadowhunters. There weren’t any warlocks in the city. The wards weren’t down long enough. We didn’t even have time to get word out to anyone. How would he have known to come?”

Alec stared at him stupidly for a long moment before nodding. His eyes started moving around the room, like he could somehow see beneath the white sheets covering the bodies, reassure himself that Magnus wasn’t there.

“Alec, talk to me. What’s going on?”

He looked up, and Jace knew that expression. He recognized it from every time that Izzy had snuck out of the Institute to go visit some boy and Alec had found her empty room. Every time Jace jumped in front of a horde of demons and Alec tried to stop him. Fear. Worry. Someone he loved was in danger. 

“Magnus is missing.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and the kudos! I know some of these chapters are relatively short, but there will be some longer ones down the line.
> 
> Enjoy!

Edom was every bit as charming as Magnus remembered. The first time he’d been here, he’d been a child. Young, scared, cold and shivering in clothes that had been soaked through with mud and rain and no shoes. He’d been completely depleted of magic. So much that he hadn’t even been able to glamour his eyes. The hot, dry wind had been a blessing, then, starting to warm him. Now, it scraped along his skin and seemed to suck all the moisture from his body. His lips were parched, his throat dry. The sand in the air whipped at his face and irritated his eyes. His father looked right at home. Magnus felt vaguely ill.

They were standing outside of his father’s keep. It looked exactly the same as it had before. Black stone walls climbed toward the sky. The windows placed at regular intervals might once have been beautiful. The remnants of glass could once have been different colors. Now, they were covered with soot or broken, the few that were intact a dull, grimy grey. The double doors had been broken down long ago, half of one still hanging off its hinges, permanently open. The doors opened onto nothing but darkness. Ruined towers reached up into the dusty air, their tops broken off, jagged spires seeming to stab upward at nothing. There was no roof. It had crumbled to pieces ages ago. Magnus remembered sitting in his father’s hall in a chair far too large for him, learning to read Ctholian, looking up at the ruined sky.

“Welcome home, son,” Asmodeus said with a flourish, waving his arms over the landscape. Magnus wondered what he saw that made him so happy.

He looked up and sighed. “Well, I can’t say that it’s going to be exactly pleasant.”

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, perhaps it’s not the glittering lights of a city full of mundanes,” his nose wrinkled on the word, “but here you have something better than that. Here, you have power. Can’t you feel it?” 

Magnus shook his head. “I’ve never felt more powerful here than I have at home.” It was a lie. But the last time he’d been here, he’d been much younger, and he’d barely been in control of his abilities. Asmodeus had taught him. That was why he’d felt more powerful. Now, a few more centuries down the line, Magnus knew better. He shivered as Asmodeus stepped up behind him, hands on his shoulders. 

“Close your eyes, my boy. Dig deep.”

Magnus had promised to be willing. He had promised to learn. No matter how badly he wanted to renege on that promise, he knew that Asmodeus could open the rift again. The image of Alec flashed in front of his eyes, scared and bleeding, defending his injured sister. He did as he was told, closing his eyes. 

He didn’t need to dig deep, or even at all. He could feel it. Demonic energy thrummed just beneath the surface of this world. He reached out to touch it with his mind, almost tentatively. Dipping a toe into uncharted waters, afraid that it might freeze or burn him with a touch. But he needn’t have worried. The energy all around him matched his own magic. They fit together like he’d been carrying around a puzzle piece all his life and he finally found the jigsaw to which it belonged. He shivered as the energy flowed through him, his hands starting to glow a cool blue without any effort at all. With this kind of power, he could do anything. Protect the people he loved. Build and destroy worlds. End anyone who’d ever hurt him. The power rushed through him, making him feel strong, alive, vibrant the way he so rarely felt in the mundane world. He blinked open his eyes, staring down at his hands, glowing a darker blue than at home. His magic was ice cold in this burning plane.

“Good,” Asmodeus said quietly. Magnus could feel the smile in his voice. It made him shiver. “This is what true power feels like. On the earthy plane, you had to try so hard. Here, it will be natural. Do something, Magnus. Give it a whirl.” 

For a moment, Magnus had no idea what to do. He examined the scene before him, his father’s broken keep huddled on its scraggly plain. He had no desire to live there. Not this time around. He took a deep breath, turning his back on his father’s home, and focused. He reached out, and dark blue power leapt from his fingertips. It took effort, energy to craft any spell. Some, conjuring a martini, for example, only required a simple wave of his wrist. Some, like moving the ley lines or a difficult bout of healing, could leave him panting or gasping for air. They could exhausted him for hours. Days, even. An effort like this in Brooklyn would have put him on his back with a cold compress, calling his favorite takeout place to deliver him a steak. 

But here? Here, all he had to do was shape the spell in his mind. He didn’t need words, he barely needed gestures. He closed his eyes, pictured what he wanted, and the power flowed through him. It was like all his life, he’d been sucking magic through a straw, and now, he’d been immersed in a flood. Here, the power was unlimited. All he had to do was open himself up to it and let it happen. He focused his mind on what he wanted, waving his arms to shape it, to build it. When he opened his eyes, he blinked, turning slowly on the spot.

He was standing in an almost perfect replica of his loft in Brooklyn. But here, the surfaces shone. Instead of exposed brick, he had exposed stone, black onyx. There was artwork hanging on the walls: all blacks and reds and deep purples. His furniture was all black leather. The view was of the barren wasteland of Edom instead of the bright lights of Manhattan. His office was off to his left, full of the usual apothecary supplies, though he didn’t recognize all of the vials. The paint was darker, the whimsical touches of color gone. His drink cart stood in the corner, a martini waiting for him. “Did I bring this here?” he asked, looking at his father. “I… It’s different.”

Asmodeus was grinning. “No, Magnus, you didn’t have to bring it here. Here, you can create.” He waved his hand and walked toward Magnus, the martini vanishing from the cart and appearing between his fingers. He pressed it into Magnus’s hand. “You have no idea what you are capable of, now that you’ve tapped into your true power.”

Magnus knew he should be afraid. But there was a cool, blue glow at the end of his fingertips and a perfectly mixed martini in his hand. He could feel the power thrumming just under the ground, filling him up, making him feel complete. Without magic at all, he’d been little more than a husk. But with the power of Edom, he felt full to overflowing. Whatever spark he’d had that Alexander had loved, it certainly wasn’t out, now. For the first time since he was a child, Magnus looked out over the barren wasteland his father called home and he wasn’t afraid. “Well,” he said slowly, “I suppose there are worse things.” He tipped the glass to his lips and took a drink, feeling the heavy weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank y'all for reading, for leaving comments and kudos. I always love to know that people are enjoying a story!

Alec knocked on the door of Magnus’s apartment. Well, Lorenzo’s, now. He sighed quietly as he waited for an answer. There was no classical music playing. There was no sound of movement at all. He closed his eyes, lifted his hand, and knocked again. 

Magnus had been missing for a month. Alec hadn’t made it here once, in all that time. He hadn’t wanted to come crawling back to Lorenzo for help. He’d hoped that maybe Magnus just knew how to shield himself from tracking. Or maybe he’d gone to some Seelie club to drown his sorrows, one of the ones that was half in and half out of Faerie. Slowly, that hope had faded. Cat was still texting him to let him know whether she could feel him, but it was no longer every day. She was giving up. So he needed something of Magnus’s to try his own tracking. It would be weaker than what Cat could do, less effective, but it was all he had. Maybe he could even talk Jace into some parabatai tracking.

Alec should have come sooner. But right after Magnus’s disappearance had been the attacks on the Institutes. Everyone dead in Los Angeles except his dad and brother. So many Shadowhunter losses. And then Clary… He could feel it, through his bond with Jace, the pain he was in. Magnus could have helped, if he’d been there. Maybe they wouldn’t have lost Clary to the mundane world. At least she was alive. At least he could still see her, even if it was only behind a glamour.

He hated to let himself feel that bitterness. It wasn’t fair to Jace. He knew the pain of losing someone in that way, knowing that they were alive and okay, but not able to see them. He’d felt it briefly when he’d first broken up with Magnus. But this, this was so much worse. The best explanation, the one that fit, was that Magnus was simply dead. Alec had hurt him too deeply, and he’d gotten himself in some situation that he couldn’t get out of without calling for help. It could have been an accident. Alec’s heart ached with the possibility of it being anything else. Jace was supposed to be the one with the death wish, not Magnus. 

He knocked on the door again, trying to rip himself out of his thoughts. No one answered. With a cry of frustration, he kicked the door.

Typically, the wards would have put him on his ass, at least if they were Lorenzo’s. Only Magnus’s would have let him in without question, once upon a time. Now, the door flew open. It hadn’t even been locked. He frowned, reaching out tentatively. He couldn’t feel the buzz of the wards against his senses. That was odd. He stepped into the apartment, and the sense of something being wrong increased. Everything was dusty. Lorenzo didn’t strike him as the sort of man to leave an apartment dusty, even if he’d chosen to leave for somewhere else. And why would he have done that? He’d seemed so pleased with himself for becoming the High Warlock. Maybe he knew what had happened to Magnus. His stomach clenched with the possibility that he and Magnus may have fought. That Magnus may have lost. He closed his eyes and stepped further into the apartment. 

Everything was exactly the same as the last time he’d been here, and not. Lorenzo’s art was still hanging from most of the walls, but one of the pieces looked like it had been set on fire, burned without touching the wall behind it. Alec walked over to the drink cart. Martinis. Lorenzo preferred an old fashioned.

He heard movement and turned, his bow in his hands before he could stop himself. Lizard. When had Magnus gotten a lizard? He walked over to the terrarium, frowning. No one had been here in a month. That was obvious from the fine layer of dust over everything, how stuffy the apartment smelled. But the lizard was fine, its water and food bowls full. Magnus must have set up some sort of automatic food and water thing to make sure he was okay. But when? Alec really thought he would remember Magnus having a lizard. And it would take magic to bring food and water in from nothing, wouldn’t it? So he’d, what, gotten his magic back, bought a lizard, set up a terrarium, and then been killed?

Alec sighed and shook his head, walking away from the terrarium and into the bedroom. It looked wrong, seeing Lorenzo’s painting above what had been their bed. He turned away, walking into the bathroom. Everything here was covered in dust, too. Magnus’s vials and potions and lotions had been replaced by Lorenzo’s versions. Just as many, just now in tacky, brightly-colored bottles that made Alec wince. He glanced into the shower and felt something between dizziness and relief. Magnus’s shampoo. He pulled it out, opening the bottle and closing his eyes. Sandalwood. For a moment, he could have sworn his heart stopped beating as he breathed it in. Every time he’d held Magnus close to his chest, every time he’d showered after a battle and used Magnus’s things, every time they’d been together, he’d smelled like this. He swallowed hard and slipped the bottle in his pocket, feeling his phone go off. Jace, probably. He would’ve felt that wave of emotion through their parabatai bond. He was probably just checking in.

Alec left the bedroom behind. He needed something of Magnus’s to use for tracking. The shampoo might work, but the more personal the item was, the better. He moved over to the shelf that held Magnus’s little box that had annoyed him so much. Memories of former lovers, mementos of relationships past. It had bothered him, the knowledge that he wasn’t ever going to be it for Magnus. He’d never, in a million years, considered the possibility that something might happen to the warlock, instead. The box had been touched and handled and loved by Magnus, through the years. He pulled it out, looking over the apartment one last time.

Magnus wasn’t here. He hadn’t been here.

“Where are you?” he asked the empty space. He heard scratching from the terrarium again. He glanced that direction, but before he could take a step, his phone started to ring in his pocket. He pulled it out.

“Yes, I know, Jace, I’m sorry, it was a- Wait, what?”

Jace’s voice was insistent down the line. He forgot all about the mystery of the lizard as he ran out the door to help Jace with a wave of Shax demons near Central Park, box tucked firmly under his arm.


	5. Chapter 5

Magnus was sitting in his living room in a high-backed chair that he refused to call a throne, sprawled sideways over the cushion, feet over the arm. His father had insisted on it. ‘A Prince of Edom needs a throne’. At least he’d been able to create it himself, instead of letting Asmodeus do it. It was black onyx with bone accents and gold trim. Stunning and only the tiniest bit terrible. Everything he created here was twisted, in some way. Stained with blood or black as night or always burning. In this case, accented with real bone. No matter how beautiful and gentle he tried to be, the magic itself here felt different. Corrupted. At least he could still conjure a decent martini.

He twirled his hand, watching fireballs bounce off each other near his ceiling. Time ran differently, here. Sometimes, it crawled, sometimes, it rushed. He had no concept of how long he’d been gone in what he still thought of as the real world. Months, probably. He had expected Edom to be horrific. He’d figured he would spend his year terrified, breaking down, emotionally exhausted. He hadn’t quite counted on the boredom. There wasn’t all that much for a Prince of Hell to do, really. Lilith’s power was mostly broken, and she was imprisoned in her castle. None of the other Princes had decided to infringe on his father’s territory. 

And with boredom, came memories and a sinking pain deep in his chest. He held the omamori charm loosely in one hand, trying not to picture what Alec might be doing. Trying not to care. He’d been dumped. Unceremoniously cut off from everything and everyone he loved. He should be letting it go, not imagining Alec sitting in this candlelit, empty version of his apartment, telling him off for using dark magic. Not like he had a choice. No other sort of magic existed, in this realm. And this was the magic Magnus had been born to use. It fit him like a well-tailored suit. Those excuses meant nothing to the Alec in his head, looking at him with his jaw set in that stubborn way that Magnus loved and hated.

He heard a sound at the door and snapped, the fireballs disappearing. He sat up, cat eyes flashing as his hands started to glow with deep blue magic, a numb coldness spreading from his fingertips. Bored or not, he didn’t want to be caught unprepared in the middle of Hell. 

The demon who entered his home was hideous, but they all were. Other than the Greater Demons with their human forms, they were mostly beasts of some kind. They all had limbs that made no sense, too many or too few eyes. Or mouths. Or hands. This one seemed to be made almost entirely of the latter, hands sticking up at every possible angle. It scuttled across the floor on dozens of fingers, making Magnus shiver. It was about the size of a small dog and oozing a trail of slime behind itself. He felt his lip curl with disgust. “What do you want?”

“Hail, Prince of Edom.” He had no idea where the thing’s voice was coming from, and he didn’t want to know. He fought off a shudder as one of the hands waved at him. 

“Yeah, yeah, spare me the pleasantries. What do you want?”

“I come bearing a message from your father, Asmodeus, King of Hell.” Magnus rolled his eyes. His father was at least enjoying his new title, no matter how annoying it was. It wasn’t like it was possible to forget that his father was a Greater Demon. “You are wanted at the damned castle.”

Magnus sighed quietly. “You know, I haven’t been living here all that long, and you people have yet to invent a GPS. I can’t just appear wherever my father wants unless he can-,” he cut off as a dark, swirling portal of energy appeared right beside the demon, “summon me via portal.” He huffed out a breath and nodded, standing and straightening his clothes. “Fine. Get out. And clean up your slime on the way.” He stepped through the portal without another word.

He stepped through into a castle. The walls were dark stone, arching high enough that the ceiling was completely shadowed. There were far too many candles burning on every surface, not unlike his father’s throne room. Or his own apartment, now. No one had paid the electric bill in Edom in a handful of millennia. “Well, the décor’s certainly fitting,” he muttered under his breath as he straightened his jacket. He looked to a throne on a dais, far larger than his father’s, made entirely out of the bones of some kind of creature he didn’t recognize. In front of the throne, on her knees on the floor, a chain around her throat, was, “Lilith.”

“Yes, Lilith.” Magnus hated when Asmodeus did that, stepping out of the shadows behind him. He did his best not to jump, failing miserably. Asmodeus laid his hand on Magnus’s shoulder. Magnus didn’t flinch.

“What am I doing here? I knew you had her holed up here. Not really sure what you want me for, unless you want some advice on interior decorating. Black walls, black ceiling, black candles. It’s all very… Hellish.”

He could almost feel Asmodeus rolling his eyes. “You’re here to help me contain her, son.”

Magnus looked to the figure on her knees, raising an eyebrow. “She looks fairly contained, to me.”

“She can hear you,” Lilith said calmly, looking up from her knees. She was dressed in pure white, her hair black, her makeup impeccable. She looked calm, if you could ignore the way the chains were cutting the skin at her throat, rivulets of black blood working their way into the fabric of her gown. There was something almost tragic in her posture, kneeling at the foot of her own throne, the chains too short to let her sit.

Still, she was the former Queen of Hell. “Apologies, Mrs. Crazy Queen of Hell Lady. You look comfy.” He turned to his father. “Can I go?”

Asmodeus’s eyes flashed, and Magnus took a half a step back. He knew that look. Though he was outwardly calm, something had happened. His father was angry. The kind of cold, controlled anger that made Magnus’s hands shake. He shoved them in his pockets, feeling the omamori charm against his left thumb. 

“Someone has been sending out her little minions for blood sacrifices, trying to grow her strength to escape my prison.”

Lilith looked up, calm and unafraid. “The last I checked, Greater Demons are entitled to blood sacrifices when they want them. You wouldn’t deny the Great Mother her due, would you, Asmodeus?”

“You are owed nothing. You are meant to be scattered through the void between the worlds, and you know it.” Asmodeus’s eyes were on her, glaring with an intensity that made Magnus’s skin crawl.

Magnus took a moment to look at the cage holding her in. It was more than just the chains. Surrounding her on four sides were translucent walls made of deep orange magic. It looked angry. Evil. Vile. His own magic was helping to hold them up, he knew that. It was part of the reason he was here, Asmodeus’s desire to hold the Queen of Hell down. He reached out to touch it carefully, and felt a cold so deep that his fingers were instantly numb. He couldn’t seem to pull them back, almost mesmerized as he looked at the swirling, orange magic. 

Asmodeus reached out and gently guided Magnus’s hand away, toward his chest. “You may be the strongest of my offspring, but you don’t want to touch that without protection.”

Magnus was shivering, his lips blue. His chest was having a hard time expanding for breath. “How? I’m a part of it. Why can’t I touch it?”

Asmodeus smiled. “Because together, we are her better, son. And though you are powerful, your power comes nowhere near my own. I’ve told you time and time again, you make me strong. All her son ever did was break her down. You build me up.” He smirked at Lilith in her cage. “Is this not what you imagined with your own child? Coming back and caging me, locking me away for all of time?”

For the first time, Magnus saw expression on Lilith’s face. Loathing and jealousy mixed in a heady combination. Magnus had the overwhelming urge to get out of the room as quickly as possible, but he couldn’t spot a single doorway. Besides, his father was already angry. Best not to have that anger turned against him.

Lilith spoke, and despite her dark expression, her voice was still calm. “Of course not, Asmodeus. There is no ill will between us. I wouldn’t dream of harming you or your boy. So willing to be here. So open to your influence. Poor Magnus Bane, left all alone when the love of his long, long life walked away from him.” She tipped her head, looking to Magnus with a slow smile. Magnus felt himself tense. “But is this truly what you want, warlock? I know why you came here. To save your Shadowhunter. But I could tell you things. I could tell you the truth.” Her gaze shifted back to Asmodeus. “Would he stay, if he knew?”

Magnus blinked, looking back and forth between Asmodeus and Lilith. “What truth?”

Asmodeus stepped up and spoke in a language that made Magnus clap his hands over his ears. He opened his mouth and he was shrieking at a decibel level that made Magnus feel like his head was going to split in half. His stomach twisted with despair at the sound, the ground shook, dust fell from the walls and invisible ceiling. 

Lilith laughed, a light, airy sound in the dark of the room. It was almost pleasant, after whatever demon language his father had used.

“She lies,” Asmodeus said. “She would say anything to break us apart.” He turned his attention to Magnus. “But you already know that, don’t you?” He stepped closer, circling Magnus like a tiger. “Remember what she did to you.” He reached out, fingertips brushing Magnus’s shoulder, and suddenly Magnus could see her sitting in his apartment, asking for a favor. The memory was crystal clear, as if it were happening all over again.

“You told me you were a friend of Ragnor’s.” His friend’s loss ached in his heart. How he missed him. Ragnor would have figured it out already. He would have raised Magnus from Hell and brought him home. He felt his lip twitch as he watched himself, almost as if he were in a dream. So open. So trusting. Whipping up a potion for the Queen of Hell herself without even realizing. “You lied to me about why you needed the potion. You forced me to corrupt my friend.”

“I needed a loyal servant,” Lilith’s voice was gentle. “I needed Jace to bring back my son. Surely you can see that my intention was never to hurt you. I was trying to bring together my family.”

“But she did hurt you.” Asmodeus’s voice was a purr in his ear. He wasn’t saying anything Magnus didn’t already know. But somehow, he was giving voice to it, allowing Magnus to hate her. “She separated Jace from Clary. She stole a sliver of your friend’s soul. She forced Jace to become her slave. She tried to have him murder your love.”

Magnus was having a hard time breathing. His hands were ice cold, glowing a deep blue. He could see it all, even the parts he hadn’t seen in reality. Clary being sliced at by the demon. Jace becoming something that wasn’t Jace at all. That arrow. That arrow pressing into Alec’s chest, taking away his breath, trying to take away his life. Snow was drifting down from his fingertips.

“I didn’t know you loved the Shadowhunter. My desires were all about the Morgenstern boy and the Fairchild girl. I had no reason to go after the Lightwoods.” Lilith’s voice was sounding thinner, and he thought he heard an edge of panic to the words.

“Alec almost died.” Magnus’s voice was as frozen as his hands. He sounded alien. Angry without passion. He sounded like his father. “Because of you, he nearly died. I had to come here, trade away my power, become a mundane, and he almost died anyway. I couldn’t heal him. Because of you.”

Asmodeus was smiling, though Magnus didn’t see it. His hands were pulsing, now, and the orange of the walls was growing brighter. “I know you believe that I am the source of all of your woes, my son,” Asmodeus said softly, “but I didn’t put you in the circumstance you were in. You knew coming to me would have a price. She nearly killed him. She stole your powers away. She is the reason why the Shadowhunter saw you as nothing more than a mundane. She is the reason he abandoned you.”

There were tears in Magnus’s eyes that felt like shards of ice. The magic in his hands darkened, turning the deep blue of the sky at twilight, and the glow began to spread up his arms to his chest. His cat eyes flashed, and then he was speaking. It was the oldest curse he knew, the darkest magic. He could hear his father’s voice speaking the words along with him in the dead, demonic language. His eyes were dark, his hands burning with cold as he formed the shape of the cage in his mind, shrinking it down. He could hear the stones around him rumbling, shaking free of their moorings. There was rubble flying through the air, but none of it touched him or touched his father. He felt Asmodeus’s hand on his shoulder as he compressed the stone, working it with his will. The walls of orange magic were slowly replaced by black rock. Lilith was screaming in the middle of her cage, calling on her own power. He could feel it as a wave of heat, but she was weak. His veins filled with ice, his voice reverberating into the space, even as the walls came crumbling down and the sky of Edom became visible again. He could feel power like he’d never felt it before as he took this woman who had stolen everything from him and locked her away where no sunlight or air would ever reach again.

He finished the spell and stumbled, but his father was there, wrapping a reassuring arm around his waist. He was breathing hard, but even now, he could feel it getting easier. Edom’s magic was strong. “There, there,” Asmodeus said quietly, “that was quite the effort. It’s very well done. Look, Magnus.” 

He did as he was told, slowly raising his eyes to see what his magic had wrought. Instead of a cage of orange energy trapping Lilith, there was a solid cube of black stone, polished to a perfect shine. There wasn’t a single window or door, no crack or crevice in the smooth surface. He stepped closer, able to see his own reflection. 

“Beautiful,” Asmodeus said, and for the first time since Magnus was a little boy, he heard pride in his father’s voice. “An excellent tomb for a queen. I doubt she’ll ever be able to get out of it. You poured more than I thought possible into its creation. I always knew you were my son, but that hate. That rage.” He shivered as though he were enjoying himself. “I’ve never felt something quite so delicious from you.” 

Magnus’s hands were shaking. He shoved them in his pockets, trying to warm them up. “I didn’t- I don’t even know what that spell does. I don’t know how I knew it.”

“It’s a binding curse,” Asmodeus said softly. “I taught it to you when you were small. You practiced on little demons, don’t you remember? You’d feel sorry for them after a few moments. Let them go. But you never forgot. And you’ve gotten cleverer, my boy. Binding the magic into the stone. Making the prison as physical as it is metaphysical.” He reached out and gently caressed the stone. “Stunning. You continue to surprise me, Magnus.” 

Magnus nodded, numb. Looking at the binding curse almost hurt. He didn’t want to be here any longer. “I… I’d like to go back to my apartment.”

Asmodeus smiled. “Of course,” he said with a grin. “We no longer have to worry about Lilith. It’s time to celebrate, my boy. I’ll make you a martini.”

Magnus didn’t protest, turning his back on the enclosure. As he stepped through the portal with his father, he almost thought he could hear a scream, echoing through the stone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, and for the comments and the kudos! Today's chapter is super short, so I'm going to make it a double update. Please let me know what you think!

Alec slumped into his chair behind his desk. Two full days of chasing around demons that were being summoned by some warlock, somewhere in New York. Two days of chasing, and they’d found one demon (killed too quickly by Jace’s seraph blade) and a whole lot of frustration.

They couldn’t reach out to the High Warlock of Brooklyn, because he was nowhere to be found. He’d been missing as long as Magnus had, at this point. People just hadn’t noticed quite so quickly. Apparently, he was popular enough to be elected, but not popular enough for anyone to notice when he vanished. Alec had considered gloating about that before deciding he was too damn tired.

Most warlocks were independent. They would answer to the authority of a High Warlock, if there was one, if only out of respect. But very few warlocks wanted the job. Catarina had stepped in as a go-to between the Shadowhunters and the warlocks, but she didn’t want the title. She was convinced Lorenzo would be back. She no longer asked about Magnus.

Four months. He’d been gone four months. Alec still felt it, the ache in his chest every time he thought about him. He’d tried everything. There were very few possibilities left. Magnus was dead, or he was hidden. Only one of those options felt remotely possible. If he was dead, then it was Alec’s fault. He’d left him when he was at his lowest point. Yes, it had been to get his magic back, but what if he’d done something stupid before Asmodeus had been able to give it back to him? Or worse, what if Asmodeus had given him his magic and then done something to him? What if he’d somehow had the same reaction to his own magic that he’d had to Lorenzo’s? 

He sighed, running his hand over his face. It didn’t help. It never helped, letting those thoughts run wild in his head. He reached for the box that had become a semi-permanent fixture on the edge of his desk. He never opened it. He didn’t want to see the memories that Magnus had kept from other people. Instead, he activated his tracking rune, the same way he did every day, and thought of Magnus. He pictured his eyes, smudged with eyeliner, a wistful softness in them as he looked over the contents. His hands, long-fingered and tipped with black nail polish, running over the sides. He tried to imagine that moment when he’d walked in while Magnus had been digging through the box, the surprise and tenderness in his features. How quick he’d been to forgive Alec when he’d looked through the box’s contents, after. He focused on the man he loved more than anything, and reached out.

Nothing. 

Same as always, there was nothing.

He put the box carefully away and let his head thump back against his chair. “Where are you, Magnus?”

There was no answer.

He sighed as he pulled out his cell phone, dialing Catarina. He hadn’t called her in a while. 

“Alec.” She didn’t sound particularly friendly. “How can I help you?”

“Has there been anything?” Alec asked quietly, “Any sign of him? Of either of them?”

He heard movement, probably Cat heading into a room away from Madzie. She missed Magnus almost as much as Alec did. She’d been having a hard time since he’d gone missing. 

“You know if I’d heard anything, you would’ve been my first call.”

“Right, but I hadn’t heard that you’d tried tracking him in a few days, and I-“

“Alec.”

He stopped talking, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew what she was going to say.

“I can’t keep searching for him every day. Or every other day. It’s like picking at a wound constantly. It won’t heal that way.” Her voice softened. “If I hear anything, one word of anything, I’ll call you right away. But I can’t keep my life on hold hoping that Magnus will come back. It’s not good for me and it’s not good for Madzie.” 

Alec swallowed hard. “I’m not asking- I know you can’t focus your entire life on him, but you can’t quit looking. What if he pops up again? What if he- what if this was all just some sort of- of terrible misunderstanding?”

Catarina sighed softly. “Take it from someone who has loved and lost and loved again, dozens of times by now. Let go. If Magnus is out there, he’ll come back to you. I’ve never seen him love anyone the way he loves you. But obsessing over it isn’t good for anyone. Not even you.”

Alec ran a hand over his face. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I-… I’ll stop calling. But when you hear something, I’m the first person you call.”

“Of course.”

Alec hung up the phone, staring at it for a long moment. One more person, giving up on the possibility of ever getting Magnus back. But Alec wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t.

Four months and one day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day! I would apologize for the angst, but I did warn you.
> 
> Enjoy some more of Asmodeus's excellent parenting!

Time passed differently, in Edom. One year there could have been a month in the ‘real’ world or ten years. Magnus hadn’t specified, and his father hadn’t asked. He had no idea how long he’d been gone in reality. Nor could he reach that dimension. For all of his limitless power, he didn’t seem to have the ability to do that. He had a feeling his father was blocking him from reaching for Alexander. Not that he would. He had more pride than that.

He sighed, flopping onto his throne and turning it to face what had been his balcony, in New York. He’d gotten rid of that, ages ago, and now it was a large, floor-to-ceiling window. A balcony over a blasted plain where the scorched wind made everything taste like ash wasn’t exactly pleasant. Now, he could look out over all he owned.

It wasn’t much, really. The hilltop rolled away from him, shale and broken trees leading down to a great crack in the surface of the earth. It was a pit, the bottom filled with fire. He’d been there once or twice, even climbed partially down the walls, just to see how far he could go. Even with the ice of his magic protecting him, he didn’t dare go far. He didn’t want to be burned by hellfire. He knew what that felt like. 

Every once in a while, one of the lesser demons would pop up from its home or feeding ground, into Magnus’s field of view. He’d taken to using them for target practice. He bent his fingers into his palm, leaving his pointer and thumb extended in the shape of a gun as some nasty little beastie crawled out of its hole. He squinted one eye closed and lined it up in his sights. “Bang,” he said quietly, a lance of dark blue magic shooting from his finger. It hit the demon square in its lumpy body. It screamed as blue flames enveloped it, and then died. This one was actually from this dimension. Its body remained where it was, bleeding black ichor onto the hill. 

He heard the door open behind him and turned lazily, jumping when he saw his father. “Asmodeus.”

“So formal,” Asmodeus said with a grin. Magnus hated the fact that his father could still put him off-balance so quickly. But Asmodeus didn’t tend to visit the apartment often.

Magnus sat up in his chair, eyes narrowing as he straightened his back. “What is it? Is there something you need from me?”

Asmodeus’s grin widened, and Magnus felt a shiver run down his spine. “I’ve brought you a gift.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “The hellhound and I didn’t last long. I would’ve thought you’d moved past the gift-giving stage.”

Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “How was I supposed to know that you wanted a dog with only one head that wasn’t trying to kill you? They don’t make puppies in hell, son.”

Magnus sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So you’ve made perfectly clear. If it isn’t another disastrous attempt at a pet, what is it?”

Asmodeus smiled and made a series of gestures. Magnus watched with a sinking sensation in his stomach as a pentagram was carved into the black marble of his floor. He watched the circle surround it, and it started to burn. “You’re sending me home?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Asmodeus snapped. “I’ve still got you for months, my darling boy. No, I’m not sending anyone to your dimension. I told you, I’m bringing you a gift.”

Magnus watched, eyes widening as something started to take form in the center of the circle of fire. He saw black leather, combat boots, white skin. “Alexander.” Hope and despair fought in his chest. Alec couldn’t survive here; the atmosphere would be toxic to him. But he ached to see him again, even here, even in Hell.

“Not Alexander,” Asmodeus said simply. 

And then Magnus started to hear the very female screaming. He frowned as the shape finished taking form. A Shadowhunter. She was covered in runes, but there was something off about her. Magnus tilted his head to the side. Pointed ears. Faerie blood. Which explained how she was able to breathe in the demon atmosphere. 

The pentagram crackled with a pale orange light once the flames died down, and Magnus shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said quietly. “Why have you brought me a Shadowhunter? What am I meant to do with her?”

Asmodeus walked over to Magnus and pulled him out of his chair, to the edge of the pentagram. “She represents everything that’s hurt you, my boy. Every pain that you have felt is because of this institution. The Clave. The Accords.”

Magnus shook his head. “No,” he said simply. “No, she doesn’t. I don’t even know who she is. I’m not going to torture some girl for you.”

Asmodeus hummed quietly. “But she’s not just some girl.” He waved, and an image took form, floating in the air as though on a slightly translucent screen. This girl, whoever she was, running through Alicante until she hit someone right in the chest. A very familiar chest. Magnus looked up, and there he was. Dark hair tousled, eyes bright and worried. “Are you alright?” Alec’s familiar voice made something twist in Magnus’s chest. He was every bit as beautiful as he’d been the first time they’d met. Less guarded, now. More honest.

Magnus waved his hand, but the images wouldn’t go away. “Stop,” he said quietly.

“I’m fine,” the girl on the screen said. “I- Do you think you could help me find Aline’s office?” She was smiling up at him, up at his Alexander. And Alec was smiling back.

“Sure, it’s right down this hallway. She’s expecting you, right?” There was a familiarity, a comfort in the exchange that made Magnus’s insides twist. 

Alec knew this girl. Alec cared for this girl, in some way. He didn’t look at very many people like that, with that open, honest expression. Izzy. Jace. Magnus. Well, once he’d looked at Magnus like that. Magnus waved his hand again, trying to end it, but the image was frozen on Alec’s knowing grin. “Stop!” The stone of his apartment shuddered.

Asmodeus shook his head. “Magnus, you have to understand that the pain you’re feeling, all of that rage, it will go away if you use it. Look at how familiar she is with him. Look at how he looks at her.”

The girl in the pentagram was starting to recover. She was gasping for air, blinking her eyes. She looked at the two of them together, and Magnus saw recognition in her eyes. “Magnus?”

He reacted before he could think. He spat a curse in one of the demonic languages and lashed out at her. Her mouth slammed shut and she let out a grunt of pain, falling to one side like she’d been hit. “I don’t want her here, Asmodeus. Send her away.” He didn’t know this woman, didn’t know who she was to Alec. He’d never mentioned her. But that smile, on the screen, it was driving Magnus insane.

“Afraid I can’t do that.” Asmodeus waved his hand, and the image flashed forward. There was no sound, now, but Magnus’s eyes were drawn instantly back to Alec’s face. He was joking with her. Laughing. Nudging her with his shoulder.

Magnus had never felt anything like that black rage that filled his heart. Jealousy ached in his bones, made his heart stutter in his chest, made it hard for his lungs to expand. “Alec wouldn’t- He wouldn’t even be interested in her.”

The girl looked horrified, shaking her head, but the curse kept her from speaking. 

Asmodeus walked closer, gripping Magnus by the shoulders, turning him to face the image, forcing him to look. “This was yesterday,” he said quietly. “Yesterday, my son. He was talking and laughing in Alicante. Flirting with some half-Fae girl.” He leaned in close and whispered, “He was happy. And look at you, sulking and killing off my lower demons for sport. He is in the halls of Alicante, while you are trapped in Hell.”

Magnus’s hands were glowing a deep blue. He couldn’t rip his eyes from that image, floating in the air. The easy grin, the bow slung over his shoulder. He looked like his Alexander. The one he’d loved. The one who had abandoned him.

“He left you behind to go chase some other Downworlder, as soon as you lost what made you special. Look at all you’ve given up, Magnus. Your magic. Your life on earth. Your very soul. He knows what he’s done to you. Look at that smile.”

Magnus was shaking. Alec wasn’t interested in women. He never had been. There wasn’t anything there. Was there? But that smile, that easy, knowing, happy smile. 

The girl had crawled to the edge of the pentagram and was desperately gesturing, pulling at her mouth where it had been sealed with magic, whining softly. She was clearly trying to tell Magnus something, but he couldn’t look away from that image of Alec, perfectly happy on his own.

Asmodeus moved his hand again, and the image changed. It was night. They were under the stars. Alec was talking to the girl, gesturing with his hands the way he only did when he was relaxed and involved in the conversation. He looked at ease. Comfortable. Magnus knew, of course, academically, that Alec would have moved on. It had to have been months since they’d seen each other, and Alec had dumped him the last time they’d been in a room together. But he hadn’t realized quite how much it would hurt to see. The pentagram color was changing, orange deepening and shifting to a dark blue. He could see the girl’s breath fogging in front of her. The sounds she was making were different, almost as though she were in pain.

Magnus turned bodily away from the girl, from the images. “Stop.” His voice was cracking, and he found himself begging. “Please, father, stop.”

Asmodeus stepped in front of him and reached under his chin, gently tipping his head up. “I only show you the truth, Magnus. The world you left is not the world to which you will return. It’s time to let him go.”

He snapped his fingers and the omamori charm was in his hand. Magnus swallowed hard at the sight of it, reaching out to take it from his father’s palm.

“He does not love you, Magnus. He told you as much the day he broke your heart. I felt your pain. I wanted you to take this year to heal. But still, you hold onto him.” He turned Magnus slowly around to face the half-Faerie girl who was shivering in her pentagram. “Break the ties that bind.”

Asmodeus reached down to grip Magnus’s wrist. He didn’t know how he could touch him without being hurt. There was frost on his hands. His eyes were dark as he watched the girl curl up in a ball. She was shuddering, her lips blue, her tears freezing on her cheeks.

“Do it, Magnus. Do it, and I will make the visions of him go away.”

Magnus looked back at the image of Alec’s face. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stand to see him happy. Couldn’t stand the fact that Alec wasn’t even looking for him. He closed his eyes and made a complicated gesture with his hands, his father’s fingers almost guiding him. There was a sharp scream, muffled by the magic that held her mouth closed. And then it was finished.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody!
> 
> Thank you for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting on the last chapter. It was certainly one of the most contentious I've ever posted. It was fun to read everyone's opinions. Thank you for being so invested!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

There was a small park down the street from Magnus’s loft. Alec still liked to go there, sometimes. They’d spent plenty of time walking around it when Magnus had been here, stretching their legs on a lazy day off, on their way to some restaurant or another that Magnus had wanted to try. After he’d lost his magic, walking through the city seemed to be one of the only things that had kept him calm. Now, it was one of the ways Alec remembered him.

But today, he wasn’t in the park to remember Magnus.

He stood staring at the pentagram burned into the grass. It had been a warm day, but the temperature around the summoning circle had plummeted until Alec could see his breath. It was such a simple shape. A pentagram inscribed in a circle. He’d seen it used exactly once before, sending Magnus to Edom. But this one had been sending someone here.

Helen Blackthorn was curled in the center of the pentagram. She was wearing Shadowhunter gear, just like she had been the last time Alec had seen her. Now, her skin was a terrible blue. Her lips and fingertips were almost purple. Frost gathered on her eyelashes. She wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing. He cataloged the details automatically, filing them away in case he needed them later.

Alec remembered talking with her just the day before, in Alicante. She’d been visiting Aline, and Alec had spent some time walking through the city with her. She was one of the few people who was able to get him to smile, these days. Had been. She had been one of the few people. He felt like he was going to be sick. “What happened, Catarina?” he asked quietly.

Cat was kneeling in the circle beside Helen, her hands hovering over the body, the white sparks of her magic drifting along its skin. She took a deep breath and blew it out. Alec could have sworn she looked relieved. She stood and stepped outside of the circle, shuddering even in her heavy coat. She looked pale, even with her glamour up. “A curse,” she said softly. “An incredibly powerful curse. We’re lucky, really. It should have killed her.”

“Should have?” Alec’s head snapped up. “Cat, she’s not breathing.”

Catarina nodded. “She’s been frozen in a moment in time. Literally and metaphysically. Everything has stopped for her, but she isn’t dead. She can be brought back, if the person who cast the curse reverses it. I’ve never felt anything like it.” She shook her head, “A curse like that is no small thing.”

Alec bit his lip. “I’ve seen a circle like this used once, when Magnus was going to Edom to make a deal with his father. And it burned. I mean, it burned hot. He was-,” he took a breath. He could talk about this without being upset. It had been long enough. “He was burning in the flames, screaming from the heat.”

Catarina nodded. “That’s generally what these circles are used for. Hellfire moves them. She would have had to be in the center of that for her to come back. And Hellfire burns hot.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying heat won’t counter the curse and wake Helen up.”

Catarina shot him a look. “No, you can’t counter massive demonic magic with heat.” She’d been the only person to step foot into the pentagram, and she hadn’t stopped shivering. By now, Alec knew her. Maybe not as well as Magnus had, but he knew when she was hiding something. “What is it? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

Catarina wouldn’t look at him. She kept staring at Helen. He’d almost decided that she wasn’t going to say anything at all when she opened her mouth. “Magic leaves traces,” she said quietly. “Like a signature. Sometimes it’s obvious, sometimes it’s faint. And it can be-,” she trailed off, but Alec only raised an eyebrow. She’d get there. “It can be muddled. If more than one person performs a spell, then it can be more complicated to read. When Ragnor, Magnus,” Alec tried not to flinch at the name, “and I would do something together, the signature left behind would be little pieces of all three of us.”

Alec nodded. “I understand. I mean, magic leaves traces. And something like this took a hell of a lot of magic. But do you recognize it? You’d have to know them, right?”

Cat nodded. He’d been wrong before. She didn’t look pale, she looked sick.

“Cat, what is it? Do you know who did this?”

She finally looked up at him and met his eyes. He could see the confusion there, and more than that, the fear. “It feels like Magnus.”

“Magnus wouldn’t do this.” Izzy’s voice was firm. They were in Alec’s office. He was pacing. Izzy was standing, arms crossed, in front of the fireplace. Jace was sitting in one of the chairs.

“We haven’t seen or heard from Magnus in months,” Alec said quietly. “Almost nine of them. He’s untraceable. But she- she was more specific than that. She said that the signature was way too powerful, like Magnus, but darker and stronger than he’s ever been.”

“Which means it wasn’t him,” Izzy said again, as though they were being idiots. “There’s every possibility that she was wrong. We’ve never seen Magnus do anything with ice or cold. If anything, he had the most fiery personality of anyone I’ve ever known.”

Had. Alec rocked back from the past tense, then started pacing again. “Just because someone has a loud personality doesn’t mean that they aren’t capable of this sort of magic. That doesn’t even make sense. But she was in a hell dimension, given the pentagram. What would Magnus be doing in a hell dimension?” 

Jace looked up, meeting Alec’s eyes. “Asomdeus,” he said quietly.

Alec froze. He couldn’t deny that he’d thought it, but it made a difference, hearing it from someone else.

“What about him?” Izzy snapped, stepping a little closer to them both.

“Magnus’s magic would be really similar to his father’s, right? And Asmodeus is in Edom. It makes sense that a pentagram of hellfire would come from a greater demon.” Jace’s voice was steady, certain. “We don’t know what his magic is like. None of us have ever experienced it. But this could be Asmodeus getting our attention.”

Alec’s jaw set. It made an uncomfortable amount of sense. Magnus’s magic, but darker and stronger. “Why?” he asked quietly. “Why would he try to contact us, after all this time? And why by almost killing Helen?”

Jace shook his head. “I don’t know, Alec, but she showed up with magic that feels like Magnus a few blocks from his old apartment. You have to admit that it only makes sense if Magnus or Asmodeus is behind it.”

Alec took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Iz, start doing research on Asmodeus. Let’s see if we can figure out what he wants. This was-… It was clearly a message. Helen’s a friend. Practically family. She and Aline are-,” he cut himself off. “Shit. I have to call Aline. Jace, help Izzy with research. We need to figure this out.”

They walked out of his office and he stood there for a long moment, focusing on his breathing. Asmodeus. It had to be Asmodeus. But why would Asmodeus be contacting them? He’d thought he was done dealing with Greater Demons.

He sighed, reaching for his phone. The screensaver was still one of his favorite pictures of Magnus, pouting dramatically, though Alec couldn’t remember the reason, anymore. He ran his thumb over the screen, then started scrolling for Aline’s number. They would find answers, even if it meant going all the way to Edom. And if solving the attack on Helen happened to bring him closer to finding Magnus, he wasn’t about to complain.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update! As always, thank you so much for the kudos and for the comments and just for continuing to read along with me. Feel free to let me know what you think, I absolutely love hearing back from y'all.

Magnus walked into his father’s throne room and sighed. It was empty, for the moment. He’d been avoiding his father since the incident with the Shadowhunter. He felt guilt twist in his stomach at the thought of her. He didn’t even know her name, and yet he’d frozen her, trapped her in a single moment of time. He wondered if Alec had been the one to find her. He’d known what his father had wanted him to do, and had changed the curse at the last moment. Asmodeus knew. He had been the one to send her back in the summoning circle. And yet, he’d been kind to Magnus, after. He hadn’t been disappointed or angry. He hadn’t forced him to finish what he’d started. He had respected Magnus’s decision not to kill her without comment. It was unsettling. He’d been expecting backlash.

Magnus looked around the room, the black throne standing a bit away from the wall, the candles on every surface, the books strewn across the floor. His father may be a Greater Demon, but why the disrespect for books? Books never did anything to anyone. Magnus waved his arm and they started returning to their places on the shelves. He couldn’t do anything about the lack of doors. Or ceiling. But he could put the books away.

“Why must you insist on cleaning every time you come to visit me?”

Magnus froze the way he always did when he first heard Asmodeus’s voice. He bowed his head slightly. “Asmodeus,” he said quietly. “I simply don’t understand why the books are always on the floor. You never read them. Who’s tossing them there?”

“I do grow frustrated from time to time, my boy. And you know how we tend to get when we’re angry.” Asmodeus’s expression as he walked into the throne room was open, almost pleased, though there was something sharp in his eyes. 

Images flashed across Magnus’s mind. His reaction to Alec’s lies about the sword, throwing things in his apartment. The way he’d tossed Raj across the room when he’d tried to prevent him from healing Alec. The sound of the young half-Faerie girl’s screams as he’d frozen her body. He inclined his head, fighting the urge two swallow hard. “Fair enough.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Asmodeus said, and Magnus inhaled sharply. “It’s about that Shadowhunter girl that you nearly killed.”

“Nearly,” Magnus said quietly, eyeing his father warily. “Which wasn’t your plan.”

Asmodeus shrugged. “She is one tiny life. She does not matter, in the grand scheme of things. You took your revenge, either way. She suffered. And you finally accepted what you are.” His smile was slow and easy as he walked around Magnus, looking every bit like a tiger prowling its cage. “You may have spared her life, but you used dark magic against a Nephilim. Do you think you can be forgiven for that?”

Magnus knew it couldn’t happen. Even if Alec had still loved him, he wouldn’t forgive a curse that dark, using his father’s magic. His own magic. He could feel it, even now, responding to his agitation, making his hands glow a cobalt blue, freezing him from the outside in. He’d tried to deny it for centuries, but the very fabric of this world reacted to him. Belonged to him. Alec would never understand. None of them would. He had gone willingly with a Prince of Hell to Edom. He’d lived here for a year. He’d grown more powerful, and he knew how the Clave responded to powerful things. Especially anything that could command the power of the greatest Demon Prince.

“If he didn’t hate you already, he will now,” Asmodeus said quietly, echoing back Magnus’s own thoughts. “You are irredeemable in their eyes, my son. But I am proud of you.” Despite himself, Magnus felt a little thrill. His mother had killed herself at the realization of what he was. His stepfather had accused him of being filthy, an abomination. Only one parent had ever loved him, even if it wasn’t the sort of love he’d thought he wanted. “You finally chose your happiness over everyone else’s. And didn’t it feel good?”

Magnus could feel power collecting at his fingertips, an outward sign of the debate inside his head. He didn’t know if it had felt good or not. There had been some relief from his frustration, his fear, his anger, the deep, wrenching pain in his chest any time he thought of Alec. But there was guilt, too, buried underneath everything else. He wondered if she had a family. He wondered if they’d found her yet, how much time had passed in the mortal world. 

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow as he looked down at Magnus’s glowing blue hands, stopping in front of him. “And are you angry with me? I can’t imagine why. I only tell the truth, and I’ve not so much as called on you for a favor in ages.”

Magnus shook his head, forcing the magic to dissipate. Nothing Asmodeus had said was a lie. His hand hadn’t been forced. He’d made the choice to hurt that young woman. And in some twisted way, there had been relief in the action. In knowing that he’d gone too far, now. He no longer had to walk the knife’s edge of morality. Intentionally or not, he’d fallen into the darkness. “No, not with you.” He straightened his spine. He owed Asmodeus this, at least. “Someone’s calling you. I can hear it.”

Asmodeus grinned, delighted. “Have you been looking out for your father?” He reached up to cup Magnus’s cheek. “You know, one might almost think that you love me, listening for my name on the wind.”

Magnus looked up and met his father’s eyes, unflinching. “I don’t like that someone is trying to summon you. That can’t end well.” If nothing else, his father going to earth would be disastrous for whoever was trying to contain him. 

“They don’t have the power,” Asmodeus said with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “The only person from that realm who could have summoned and bound me to a pentagram is standing in front of me. They’re simply hoping that I answer. Though I will admit, they are persistent.” He rolled his eyes. “Someone managed to find my name and the summoning incantation for me.”

Magnus bristled. “If they have all of that, then they’ll eventually find someone powerful enough to summon you. I wasn’t the only powerful warlock on earth.”

“But when you return, you will be the most powerful. You are bound to this place. And so long as you maintain that connection, you will carry the power of Edom with you.” He clapped his hands onto Magnus’s shoulders. “You have spent so many years hiding the scope of your power from Nephilim and other warlocks, afraid they will see you for what you are. You are the Prince of Edom. Your father is a king. All of the warlocks of earth should know that and bow to you, my son.” He smiled, and there was nothing gentle in it. “They may call to me all they like. But they cannot touch me. And they cannot touch you.”

He pulled back, and Magnus felt a sudden weight on top of his head. Something was messing up his hair. He frowned slightly, shooting his father a questioning look.

“A gift,” Asmodeus said lightly, conjuring a mirror. He stepped behind Magnus, taking hold of his shoulders, guiding him to look.

He saw two matching sets of golden cat eyes. He never wore a glamour in Edom. There was no point. He could see the resemblance to his father in the lean lines of his body, his cheekbones, his long-fingered hands. They were so very similar. On Asmodeus’s head, shining like a dark star, sat a crown of black iron. There was a bloodred ruby in the center, above his forehead, and at the tip of each piece of filigree burned a small, orange flame, the same color as his magic. Magnus turned his attention to his own reflection. His circlet was far more simple. It was made of the same black metal, but the jewel in the front was a frosted blue, and a delicate pattern of ice stood against the black, pulsing with the blue of his own magic. It suited him.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Asmodeus said gently. “Wear it with pride, my son. You’ve earned it.”

Magnus felt the weight of Asmodeus’s expectations settle on his shoulders. It was an oddly comfortable burden. He had a purpose. His father believed in him. And if that came with a twist of something unidentifiable in the pit of his stomach, maybe that was just the price he had to pay. 

“Thank you, father.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and the kudos and for continuing to read along with me. I hope that y'all are enjoying reading the story as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

Alec didn’t bother knocking. He slipped into Magnus’s flat quietly, closing the door behind him. He needed to go through Magnus’s notes again on Asmodeus. He needed to know why the summoning circle wasn’t working. Cat had been trying for ages, but it was like dialing a dead number. She said it could be a power issue. And without Magnus or Lorenzo to help, there was no way to get the sort of power that she needed. 

They had to speak with Asmodeus. Alec had to know what had happened to Helen. He’d made sure she was well taken care of. She was resting in Alicante. They hadn’t been able to change the position of her body, since she was frozen completely solid. But they’d laid her out in a bed and surrounded her with pillows and blankets. Aline could visit her there, and the rest of the Blackthorn family. The Silent Brothers were researching a cure. The only sure way to save her was to bring in the person who’d cast the curse. Asmodeus. It had to be Asmodeus.

He stretched out his neck, standing in the dusty foyer. The apartment was quiet, the way it was every time he visited. He’d scratched runes into the walls. Shadowhunter wards, meant to keep anyone from squatting in the place. Magnus hadn’t returned, but Alec couldn’t stand the thought of him coming back to an apartment full of strangers. No matter how unlikely that seemed, now. He sighed, closing his eyes. Tracking runes still weren’t working. The only clue to Magnus’s location was Helen, the trace of his magic on her body. Or his father’s magic. They had to know, one way or another.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a tapping on the glass of the lizard’s terrarium. He’d never seen a lizard before that tapped, but this one always did, every time he visited the loft. He should at least move it somewhere else. Give it a change of scenery. Maybe that’s what it wanted. He walked over to make sure it was still getting enough food and water and frowned down at it. He didn’t remember Magnus ever having a lizard. Something about it was sticking in his brain. A little catch that had been there since Magnus’s disappearance. It had seemed so minor, at the time. He’d run down every other possible lead. He looked at the terrarium and something caught his eye. If he squinted, it almost looked like there was a message in the leaves. He could make out the shape of a letter. An ‘H’. Could be a coincidence. But right next to it could have been an ‘E’. He tilted his head. H. E. L. P. The lizard was crying out for help. He pulled out his phone, hand shaking. 

“Catarina? I need you at Magnus’s. Now.”

Alec met Catarina at the door. She didn’t like portaling into the apartment proper, anymore. No one did. It felt somehow disrespectful.

“This is going to sound insane, but it spelled out ‘help’ in the leaves.” 

Catarina blinked at him. 

Alec shook his head. “I know, I know, but he’s always hated lizards, and then, magically, right after disappearing, there’s a lizard in his apartment? Doesn’t that strike you as a little too coincidental?”

“Alec,” Cat said softly, “Can you get out of my way so I can go see if your lizard is actually your ex-boyfriend?”

Alec nodded, feeling a little numb. If the lizard had been Magnus all along, then maybe that explained everything. Not Helen in the park. Asmodeus could explain that. He would kidnap a Shadowhunter and send her back cursed. Magnus wouldn’t. Magnus had been impossible to track. Could he be tracked, if he wasn’t human? Maybe Asmodeus had tricked him, somehow. Given him his magic and then trapped him as a chameleon to torture him. It seemed ridiculous, but Alec wasn’t about to say what a pissed off Greater Demon may or may not do.

He was ripped from his thoughts by Catarina’s gasp. He felt his heart leap up to his throat as he stepped toward her. “Cat, is it-,”

There was a flash of purple light, an uncomfortable wave of energy, and then the lizard was no longer a lizard. Alec felt hope surge in his chest and ran forward as he saw the shape of a man growing upward from the floor. His stomach plummeted, landing somewhere in the apartment below, when he recognized he haughty features of Lorenzo Rey.

“What the hell?”

Lorenzo looked up at him, glaring. “Well, if you weren’t so stupid, I would’ve been out of there the day you first visited,” he snapped.

Alec’s mind was racing, trying to catch up to the fact that Lorenzo Rey was standing in the middle of Magnus Bane’s apartment. “Me? I’m the stupid one? You’re the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and you’ve been in a terrarium for almost a year. What happened?”

Lorenzo’s eyes flashed, and Alec spotted magic gathering at his fingertips. Alec was ready for a fight. He needed a fight. Adrenaline was pumping through his system. Magnus had been here. How else had Lorenzo ended up being transformed? But if the lizard was Lorenzo, where the hell was Magnus?

Catarina sighed quietly, stepping between them and waving, producing a cocktail out of thin air. She pressed the old fashioned into Lorenzo’s hands. “Alec, Lorenzo clearly did not intend to become a lizard, so calm down. Lorenzo, can you tell us what happened? How did you end up in this mess?” 

Lorenzo took a sip of his drink and stood, stretching out his muscles. “What do you think happened? Magnus Bane is a menace, and he acted the way menaces do. Good riddance to him. I hope he burns in Edom until the end of time.”

Alec’s skin ran cold. “Burns in Edom? What are you talking about?”

Lorenzo’s eyes were icy as he turned them to Alec. “Your boyfriend and his,” his lip curled, “father made some sort of deal. He went to Edom, and Alicante was spared. With any luck, Asmodeus will keep him there until the universe runs cold. And even that would be too short for what he’s done.”

Alec felt his heart stop in his chest. Edom. Magnus Bane was in hell.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited at the response to the last chapter! Thank you so much for all of the comments, kudos, and views. Y'all are amazing!
> 
> Just keep in mind, time runs differently in Edom.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Your Highness, there has been an attack from Belial’s demons. I believe he is trying to get to the Great Mother and free her.” The voice at Magnus’s heels was somehow slithering and gritty at the same time, like a snake hissing through a pipe clogged with sand. He’d had grown used to it in the past few months, though he couldn’t lie and say that he actually enjoyed it.

“Yes, well, what did you do about it?” he snapped, walking quickly through the corridors of his father’s keep. “I take it you turned them back?”

The demon nodded. It had the body and head of a lizard, the furred, shaggy limbs of a bear, and the tail of a scorpion arching over its back. Its elongated face had two mouths, stacked on top of each other. Only the bottom one opened when it spoke. The thing reeked of decay and death. The effect was unsettling, to say the least. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“If you did, then why are you informing me about it?”

“The king would like you to reinforce the magical protections that surround the Lady’s castle, Your Highness. He does not want anyone reaching the Que- um, LIlith’s tomb.”

Magnus sighed quietly. He hated the formality, but his father adored it. He smiled every time that Magnus accepted the bowing and scraping of the demons in this realm. He felt his fingers starting to glow with irritation and forced his shoulders to relax. “Alright. I’ll head down there soon. But I’m sending you on a mission when I’m finished. And you get to go on a vacation all the way to earth. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

The demon managed to shoot him a look that Magnus understood to mean that it was curious, if wary. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear it with my father.” He waved his hand dismissively and the demon popped out of existence. He preferred not to have to spend more time with it than he had to. Besides, it was fun to portal the thing around against its will. He kept walking, though he slowed when he felt a familiar presence.

“He is your lieutenant. You ought to treat him a bit better.” Asmodeus’s voice was more amused than angry.

Magnus rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never liked when people called me by titles, he’s no exception. There’s a reason I’ve been thriving since the end of the age of royals.”

“And here I thought it was because someone invented easily-accessible sequins.”

Magnus snorted, turning to look at his father with an expression that could almost have been fond. “We can both be right, you know.”

Asmodeus hummed. “What mission do you have for Maloch?” he asked conversationally, turning to walk down the hallway with his son. 

Magnus was quiet for a moment. “I want to know what I’m going back to.”

He felt Asmodeus stiffen, but he kept his walking pace even. The calls for Asmodeus on the wind had grown wilder and louder, and then suddenly stopped. Whoever had been searching for his father had given up. He had no idea how much time it had been in the mortal world. Here, it had been weeks. Something had changed. He needed to know what it was before he popped back into existence in his loft. “You knew I would want to go back. The deal was for a year. It’s been a year on earth. I want to go home.”

“Go home to what?” Asmodeus’s voice was gentle, curious. Still, the words hurt. “Your position is gone. Your friends have abandoned you. What do you have to return to?”

Images flashed in front of Magnus’s eyes. Catarina. Madzie. Isabelle. Clary. Ragnor, the way he’d been just before he’d died. Alexander. Magnus straightened his spine, though his stomach clenched. “I can regain my position. And Cat only abandoned me because of Madzie. Because Lorenzo threatened her with prison. I still have friends.” 

Asmodeus reached out to gently touch his arm, and Magnus stopped walking. “Have you forgotten the pain he put you through, Magnus? Have you forgotten what they all did to you?”

Magnus hadn’t forgotten. He could never forget. But the memories came back, anyway. Catarina pulling away from him, choosing to obey Lorenzo, taking away the last of his options before coming to his father. Alec standing in his mother’s shop. The spark inside of you, the one I fell in love with, was out for good. The memory brought an almost physical pain. His hand moved automatically to reach into his pocket, to brush his fingers over the omamori charm. Asmodeus caught his hand. 

“When you came to me, you had nothing,” Asmodeus said quietly. “No home. No friends. No love. You had lost your power, Magnus. You were broken. And he is the reason. Think. Stop letting foolish, human emotion get in the way, and remember.”

Guilt over losing Alec his parabatai had driven Magnus to Asmodeus in the first place. He’d lost his magic for the sake of Shadowhunters. Alec had taken it away a second time, after the transfusion. Alec had been the one who had made that choice. And Alec had been the one who’d seen him at his lowest, and decided he wasn’t worth the effort, anymore. Pain flared in Magnus’s chest, but with it came a rage that was becoming more and more familiar, the longer he spent in Edom. He hadn’t deserved that. He hadn’t deserved any of this. Being thrown out when he was at his weakest. He should never have hit a point low enough to end up here, in Edom with his father. 

Asmodeus was smiling when Magnus looked up. “It’s alright to hate him,” he said quietly. “Love and hate are very nearly the same emotion. Transitioning from one to the other will help you heal. Remember whose fault this is, Magnus. Remember who shattered you, and who helped you put the pieces back together.”

Magnus took a slow breath, straightening his spine. “I’m not returning for him.” His voice was as cold as his magic. “I’m returning for me. I want back the life that was stolen away from me.”

“You are a prince, now. You’ve finally learned how powerful you can truly be. Is your life not better, here?”

“You said I could carry this power with me when I return to earth. I can fix everything.” 

Asmodeus tipped his head as they started to walk again. “You will be powerful, son, so long as you maintain your connection to your home. You can draw energy from this dimension. It will be different, of course. The rituals to keep you in power are less… gentle than choosing to depend only on the magic you can reach on your own.”

Magnus hummed, stepping out of the great double-doored entrance and heading for the queen’s castle, his father beside him. “I can handle a few non-gentle rituals, father. You’ve seen what I can do.”

Asmodeus smiled, and Magnus felt a small rush of approval. He fought against it, though he no longer understood why. His father had been there for him when no one else had. When his friends of centuries were dead or had abandoned him on the word of the new High Warlock, when the man he loved left him behind, when his adoptive family shunned him, his father had walked back into his life. He’d proven time and time again that he would support Magnus. He’d made him powerful. Maybe his brand of love wasn’t exactly gentle, but it was what Magnus had. Perhaps it was what he deserved. 

“My boy, you have come such a long way. But there is so much more that I can teach you. More that you can learn only here. The life you lost is not worth giving up the power you can gain.”

Magnus turned to look at his father. “This isn’t my home. It has never been my home. I have no desire to stay here and fight demonic wars for the rest of my days. Who wants to rule over a kingdom of ash?”

Amadeus raised an eyebrow. “But you are the Prince of Edom. This is where you belong.”

They’d reached the borders of the queen’s lands. Magnus took a deep breath, and slowly raised his arms. The magic protecting the lands became visible in front of him, a solid wall of orange and blue energy, ringing her land and extending until it vanished into the sky. It reflected back in Magnus’s eyes as his frozen hands reached out to touch the wall, wreathed in cobalt blue. He poured in his power, his strength, his will. His hatred of the demons that were trying to free Lilith. His desire to contain, control, bind. The rage he felt at the thought of Alexander. As he worked, he glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes were almost black, his face backlit in orange and blue from the wall. The circlet pulsed with deep blue magic against his hair. “You’re the King of Edom, father,” his smile was cold, “but I’d rather be the Prince on Earth.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your reaction to the last chapter. I'm excited to see what y'all think of this one. 
> 
> Y'all are amazing!

Alec was sitting in his office on one of the leather chairs by the fire, his head in his hands. 

“And Lorenzo won’t build us a portal to get there, why?”

Alec fought to keep his anger controlled, jaw setting as he looked at his parabatai. “I’ve told you, he can’t. You don’t use portals to get to Edom, you use summoning circles. We’ve been trying to summon Asmodeus for ages, but Cat doesn’t have the power and Lorenzo’s a coward.” He stretched out his neck, fighting the urge to start pacing. Jace was already trying to wear a hole through the floor. Two of them walking back and forth wouldn’t help. “We can’t summon Magnus, because he isn’t actually a demon, and there’s no summoning spell out there to pull a warlock from Edom. And even if we could force Lorenzo to build a summoning circle that would send us there, we would die the second we hit the dirt. Edom is toxic to those with Angel blood. We wouldn’t be able to breathe. We’d asphyxiate.”

Jace huffed, clearly feeling Alec’s agitation on top of his own feelings. “Well, we just have to convince him to summon Asmodeus. There’s no other choice.”

“I’ve been trying.” Alec’s voice was low, almost dangerous. “Every day since he showed up in Magnus’s living room, I’ve been trying. He claimed to be exhausted after living as a lizard for so long, though he was happy to throw himself a welcome back party. It’s possible that he doesn’t have the power, but he’d never admit it. He’s not going to authorize a group of warlocks to get together to summon a Greater Demon if he doesn’t. Not for me. And certainly not for Magnus.”

“Why not use the way you talked to him last time? That warlock who could channel his spirit?”

Alec ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t. She’s dead.” He’d been considering the same options since Lorenzo’s ‘miraculous’ return a week ago. He’d been frantic, researching in every book he could get his hands on, contacting every Downworlder Magnus had ever introduced him to. They all said roughly the same thing: Nephilim weren’t meant to travel to Edom. He stood and grabbed his bow, working on the tension in the string to have something to do with his hands. “She’s likely how Asmodeus got here the first time, to get to Magnus.” He still couldn’t believe he’d been so blind. He’d thought Asmodeus would release Magnus’s magic from the demon realm, not come to earth to gift it to him in person. 

“You were trying to do the right thing,” Jace said quietly. 

“Yeah, well, in this case, the road to Hell is literally paved in good intentions.” Alec tightened the string on his bow, breathing harshly through his nose as he contained his frustration. “Simon could bite me. Turn me into a vampire. If I were a Downworlder, I could go.”

Jace’s look of shock was almost worth the suggestion by itself. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no guarantee you’d even change. I’ve never heard of a Shadowhunter being Turned. And even if it worked, you’d be dead to the Nephilim, Alec. You’d lose your parents, Izzy, me. Our parabatai bond would be severed. There’s no way I’m letting you do that.”

Alec tossed the bow onto the desk, losing the battle with his self-control. “What do you want me to do, Jace? He’s trapped in literal Hell, and I can’t get to him. He’s been there a year. Do you have any idea how long that could be in Edom? He left after I- Raziel, I dumped him. He was at his lowest possible point, and then he went to Hell. To save me and you, by the way, along with the rest of the Shadowhunters. We don’t even know if he’s still- if he’s alive.” 

Jace opened his mouth to say something, but Alec held up a hand as his phone rang. He was still the Head of the Institute. He pulled himself together and answered gruffly. He ended the call as soon as he heard the word ‘demon’ and a location. “You want to hunt? I need to hunt.” He grabbed his jacket and bow and headed for the door. “There’s some demon they’ve never seen before in Brooklyn. Let’s go kill something.”

The demon was smart. Far smarter than they’d given it credit for. It had lured them into an abandoned building, separated them. When Alec had thought they’d had it cornered in a doorway, Jace on one side and himself on the other, the thing had latched its bearlike claws into the walls and pulled them down. Jace was fine, other than a little dust and some light bruises, but he was trapped in the building, trying to dig himself out. Alec had left him behind and raced down the alley, trying to spot the demon again. The thing was fast. He’d only caught sight of a few details. A reptilian body. Two mouths. Some kind of scorpion stinger thing arching over its back that Jace had managed to cut the tip off of. 

Alec spotted it up ahead and poured all his energy into running faster, glad he’d activated his Speed and Endurance runes before starting this fight. He chased it through Brooklyn, down familiar streets. Too familiar streets. He felt something twist in his guts when he looked up and saw Magnus’s old apartment building. Coincidence. It had to be coincidence. 

He watched the demon as they reached an intersection. He willed it to turn right. If it turned right, it was headed toward the park where Helen had been found. If it turned left, it would be aimed at Magnus’s apartment. The demon seemed to hesitate for a moment, and Alec raised his throwing dagger, not able to use his bow while running. The demon glanced back at him. He could have sworn it winked. The dagger sailed over its head as it ducked and turned to the left.

Alec couldn’t breathe. He stopped at the intersection, panting, and watched as the demon slipped into Magnus’s building. 

With shaky hands, he opened the familiar door, walking up the stairs slowly. He knew that the demon wouldn’t be lying in wait. Not until it reached its final destination. Not until Alec had seen whatever terrible tableau was waiting for him. “Please don’t be dead,” he said quietly as he walked toward the door. Something was wrong. He could smell Sulphur. “Please, please don’t be dead.” He couldn’t stop picturing Helen Blackthorn, curled and frozen in the middle of a summoning circle. He opened the door to Magnus’s apartment slowly and stepped inside. He froze.

To his right, the demon was crouching outside of a circle of bright orange flame, head bowed low to the ground. The circle encompassed a pentagram. A summoning circle, just like the one he’d seen Magnus disappear into, screaming in pain as the flames burned him, just over a year ago. Just like the one that had sent Helen back to them, cursed. He watched with horror as the flames turned from orange to blue. A figure rose from the center of the circle, arms extended. All the air seemed to rush out of the room. Alec’s fingers were frozen, his breath fogging in front of him.

He took an involuntary step back as the man rose from the flames.

He wasn’t screaming. On his head sat a circlet of black stone set with a dark blue jewel. His hands glowed, snowflakes drifting down from them, despite the fire still burning. His eyes were smudged with black liner. His outfit was as simple as Alec had ever seen. Black slacks, combat boots, a black button-down shirt underneath a black jacket embroidered with hints of gold and blue. The man raised his hands and the flames died in an instant. He looked up, and black eyes locked onto Alec’s.

From his right, Alec heard a slithering, hissing voice. “Hail, Prince of Edom.”

Alec’s throat was dry, his stomach in knots. “Magnus.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad everyone's so excited now that Magnus is back! I love hearing y'all's thoughts. Thank you so much for sharing!

“Magnus.”

Alec stood staring at the man in front of him. He looked so different. His hair was tipped with blue, a little shaggier than Alec had ever seen it. His hands were bare. Alec wondered what had happened to his rings, why he’d stopped wearing them. His eyes kept being drawn back to the circlet sitting on his head. A crown. Magnus had always made daring fashion statements, but that was a little extreme. And those eyes. There was something deeply wrong about those eyes. They looked almost normal, but they were darker than Alec remembered, the irises far too dark.

Magnus moved more quickly than Alec could fully track, moving his hands in a complicated pattern. The demon beside Alec vanished with the sound of air imploding into the space it had occupied. Alec jumped, then shook his head, slipping the throwing dagger he’d been holding back into his pocket. “Magnus, it’s me. Are you- Are you alright?” He couldn’t help the twist of fear in his gut as he looked at Magnus. He was so different. And those eyes, those black, dead eyes were so different from the warm brown glamour he usually wore. 

Magnus waved his arm and Alec took a stumbling step backward as the walls of the apartment were suddenly on fire. It was all of Lorenzo’s paintings, burning so hot that they were incinerated without the frames being so much as singed. The Shadowhunter runes near the door flared to life with blue flame and were then gone, nothing but scorch marks. The floor shifted beneath his feet, warm wood turning to a dark, slate gray tile. The furniture shifted and changed; warm fabrics replaced with black leather. Candles sprung onto every available surface, the flames lighting the room with an eerie, blue glow. Dust vanished. The drink cart in the corner refreshed with bottles of Magnus’s favorite liquor. And all of it with a simple wave of Magnus’s hand. Alec felt a shiver go down his spine.

“You got rid of my lizard.”

Alec looked up, almost too startled to speak. It was Magnus’s voice, but not. It was missing all the warmth and care that had always accompanied his speaking to Alec. “It- That- You knew about Lorenzo?”

Magnus stepped outside of the pentagram, and Alec noticed that instead of being made of ash, it had been inscribed into the floor, like someone had carved it with a knife. “Why are you here, Shadowhunter?”

Shadowhunter. Alec had no idea what to say. His heart ached in his chest. Magnus was finally standing in front of him. He should be tripping over himself to get close, but he couldn’t bring himself to take a single step in Magnus’s direction. His black eyes glittered as he walked over to the cart and made himself a martini. The motion was familiar and off-putting at the same time. Alec felt goosebumps prickle along his arms. Something was deeply, fundamentally wrong. “We tried to reach you,” he said quietly. “I tried. I didn’t know where you were. Cat couldn’t track you. Neither could I. We did everything that we could. Once we found out about the deal with Asmodeus, we-“

“Don’t.” Magnus’s voice was flat, his posture stiff. He was facing the drink cart, away from Alec, but his shoulders had stiffened. If he was a dog, his hackles would have raised.

“I don’t understand,” Alec said softly, managing to take a half a step toward Magnus. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t speak about my father.” 

Magnus turned to face him, and his posture was relaxed again. Easy. He was moving differently, some of the fluidity back in the way he lifted the martini to his lips. It was like Alec was watching him put on a Magnus suit and slide back into his old habits. But his expression was too blank. His eyes too cold. Alec felt a flare of anger at whatever had been done to the man he loved. “That demon isn’t your family, Magnus.”

It happened so suddenly that Alec could barely react. Magnus hissed something in a language that made Alec’s ears hurt, and then he was flying through the air, carried on a current of wind that screamed around him, though it barely ruffled his clothing. He flew through the open doors and hit the wall across the hallway. He stumbled, though the impact had been gentle. He headed back toward Magnus, silhouetted in black against the cityscape beyond the windows. The shadow waved, and the doors slammed in his face. The door to Magnus’s loft started to glow a deep blue, the wards thrumming with power. 

“Magnus!” Alec reached out to knock on the door. A few inches away, his skin began to tingle with cold as he bumped up against a resistance in the air. The same cold that had surrounded Helen. He pulled his hand back with a hiss. “Magnus! Let me in!” There was no answer. Not that Alec had been expecting one. He took a breath and steadied himself before reaching toward the door again, aimed at the handle this time. When Magnus’s wards were up, he almost never locked the door. In the past, the wards had always let Alec in. Automatically. Magnus had said it was just his magic recognizing the man he loved. Alec closed his eyes and grit his teeth as he reached past the point of the cold. That resistance was there, but he could push through it, if he tried. He activated his Strength rune, feeling it burn on his arm as he pushed forward. He was almost there, only an inch from the door handle before the pain became unbearable. He pulled back his hand with a shout, staring down at blackened fingertips. Frostbite. He activated his Iratze as he stared at the door, hopelessness swirling in his chest. Magnus was back. He was back and completely, utterly unreachable. “Magnus,” he said quietly, hand hovering just beyond the point of the wards, “what happened to you?” 

Catarina opened the door at the first knock, stepping back to let Alec into her apartment.

“He’s back. Magnus is back.”

Catarina nodded. “I know. I felt it. I’d be amazed if every Warlock in New York City didn’t know. And probably some further out. It was an… intense wave of energy.” 

Alec could tell that something had unsettled her. “It was more powerful than you expected,” he said quietly. “I just saw him rearrange his entire apartment without a hint of effort. He threw me out of the room with a word, he didn’t even move.”

Cat nodded. “That makes a certain amount of sense. I’ve never felt anything like that. He feels different, to say the least.”

Alec swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to do, Cat. He was in a summoning circle. He had to be coming back from Edom. There was a demon at his feet. It called him the Prince. It was bowing. And Magnus was-,” he shook his head. He had no idea how to communicate the black, blank eyes, the cold distance in his voice.

Cat touched his hand gently. “Come sit in the kitchen. I’ll make us some tea. You can use it to warm your hands.” The black had faded, but his skin was red and irritated, almost like he’d been burned. He’d never felt a cold like it.

A few minutes later, he found himself sitting at Cat’s wooden dining table, holding a cup of tea to his chest, his fingers tingling as the feeling returned to them. It was warm in Cat’s apartment, but he was shivering. “He was like a stranger. Even the way he moved was different.”

Catarina sighed. “I’ve never felt him like this,” she admitted. “The level of power is disturbing enough, but it’s cold, too. I’ve felt flashes of this, before. When he’s been deeply hurt. Truly heartbroken. He has a tendency to go a bit cold, freeze people out of his life. But never to this degree. It was like a sudden snowstorm, when he popped back up.”

Alec nodded. “Asmodeus did something to him. He had to. There’s no way that that’s my Magnus.”

“He wasn’t your Magnus,” Cat’s voice was gentle, but her gaze was firm. “Remember? You broke up with him. But that definitely is Magnus, Alec. I wouldn’t be able to feel him if he wasn’t. It’s possible that Asmodeus messed with his mind, but he’s the genuine article. This may simply be him, for now. He lost his magic, his position, most of his friends because of Lorenzo, you, the people in your life he considered like family. And the only person who found him while he was like that was his father. It’s Magnus. It’s just a different Magnus.”

Alec shook his head. “No. No, there has to be something going on. Will you go see him tomorrow? Please? Talk to him, see if you can make sense of this?”

Catarina sighed quietly, looking at Alec. “I’ll do what I can for him. But that’s all I can do. It may take him some time to warm back up to any of us. After whatever he’s been through in Edom, I can’t blame him.”

Alec nodded. “I get it. Just talk to him, see what you can find out. And I’ll talk to him, too, eventually. When his wards aren’t so determined to kill me.”

Catarina nodded, though Alec had a feeling that she was more worried than she seemed. “He’ll be alright. He has to be.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments and the love on the last chapter. I'm so glad that everyone seemed to like the reunion, even if it wasn't exactly the happy one we were hoping for.
> 
> I hope y'all like some Dark Magnus, because I'm going to have a little bit of fun with it. Enjoy!

Magnus had expected to arrive in his loft. Maloch had been making the preparations for days, ensuring the area was clear, that no one had taken up residence in his absence. He’d expected the flames, the pentagram, the stench of demon in his apartment. He hadn’t expected Alec. The shock had stolen his breath away, though he hadn’t shown it. His poker face had improved dramatically in his time with his father. Even so, the look of fear on Alec’s face had cut him to the bone. That’s how Alexander saw him, now, a returning Prince of Edom. He had expected no less, but that didn’t make it comfortable. Still, it clarified things. Alec no longer saw the man he’d been. Perhaps it was for the best. Sending him from the apartment and slamming the door had been easy. Falling asleep in the empty loft without the sounds of demons screeching hadn’t been.

The first issue, of course, was Lorenzo. Magnus climbed out of bed the morning after his return, unsurprised that the loft had changed further while he’d slept. His bedding had turned to black silk. The temperature had dropped. The warm tones that had defined his loft had been replaced by blues and silvers and purples. He sighed quietly, making a face. He’d always preferred warmer colors. They suited his skin tone and reminded him of happier times. But his magic was different, now. Darker. Everything it touched seemed to turn cold and dark and hard.

He clapped his hands twice as he headed into the living room, and Maloch appeared in front of him. “You can’t go running around like you did last night. You’re going to scare off the locals and end up leading Shadowhunters to my front door. Again,” Magnus said as he looked the demon up and down.

“They’re going to be here, anyway. After what you did to the Shadowhunter girl, they’ll be coming for you.” Magnus could have sworn one of Maloch’s mouths smiled.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, ignoring the slight clench in his stomach at the thought. “What I did in Edom is outside of their jurisdiction.” At Maloch’s silence, he sighed. “Though I suppose they’ll be looking for me to undo the curse, now that I’m back. Should be interesting to see how they ask. Either way, it’s better if you don’t look like a demented crocodile. I don’t need them knowing that I’m working with demons. Not yet.” He waved his hands in a complicated little gesture, and Maloch’s demonic form twisted, morphing into the shape of a man. Admittedly, a short, grumpy-looking man with a beer gut and a few days’ stubble, but he looked mundane enough. 

Maloch looked down at himself and his nose curled up. “I look disgusting.”

“Glad you think so,” Magnus said with a smile. “I couldn’t agree more. But if you’re going to be my right-hand man, then you at least have to appear as a man. And have hands. I’ll take it off you eventually. But today, I need you to run an errand.” His grin widened, something cold behind his eyes. “Bring me Lorenzo Rey.”

Maloch nodded, and when he smiled, his teeth seemed far too big for his mouth. “Of course, Your Highness. Gladly.”

Magnus waved and the door opened. He closed it behind Maloch with a flick of his wrist. 

“You seem to be settling in well, son.” 

Magnus raised an eyebrow, turning toward the windows. One of them had become a viewing glass, much like the one his father had used to show him Alicante when he’d given up his freedom for the man he’d once loved. “And you seem to be spying, father,” he said coolly. “May I ask why?”

“I worried that your little Shadowhunter may have tried to get to you.”

Magnus’s eyes were carefully dark, flat. “So it wasn’t your idea to invite Alexander to my summoning?” The flash in Asmodeus’s eye sent a shiver down Magnus’s spine. Maloch was going to be in an awful lot of trouble with his king. Magnus shook his head. “Nothing happened, father. He saw me. He was afraid. I threw him out. He made one attempt at the wards, and then he left. There’s nothing I want from him. And nothing more he can take from me.” 

Asmodeus smiled, a slow, easy expression. “That’s my boy. All that pain turned to rage and bitterness.”

Magnus’s expression was neutral as he nodded. “I should go. Maloch will be back soon with Lorenzo. When I’m finished with him, I’ll be High Warlock within the hour.”

Asmodeus nodded, humming softly under his breath as Magnus met his eyes. “My boy. You’ve made your father proud.” 

He vanished with a flutter of his fingers, and Magnus felt himself relax. He still had his father, even if he had returned to the mortal plane. He took a breath and glanced around the loft with a critical eye. He had a guest to entertain, after all. It needed to look the part.

Lorenzo stepped into the apartment that had been his for a brief time and stood in the center of the living room, posture haughty. “What is it you want?”

There was a chair in front of the window, centered in the room. It drew Lorenzo’s eye as soon as he walked inside. Splayed over it sideways, legs kicked over the armrest, was Magnus Bane. He looked different than he had before Edom. His clothing was darker. His expression was blank. Lorenzo had never seen him so still, though his hand was moving in a slow, lazy circle. There was blue light dripping from his fingertips. Lorenzo glanced up and saw fireballs dancing near the ceiling, following the movements of Magnus’s hand. He shivered in the cold of the apartment, drawing his jacket around himself as he looked at the empty frames on the walls. “Lorenzo Rey. I hear you vanished for nearly a year and almost no one noticed.”

Lorenzo stiffened, jaw tightening when he recognized what used to be artwork. His paintings. “It’s your fault that I was gone at all. I should tell the Shadowhunters in Idris. I’m fairly certain imprisoning a warlock is a violation of the Accords, even if your boyfriend wants to keep it quiet.”

Magnus laughed, his eyes flashing with something Lorenzo couldn’t quite identify. Rage? Regret? He looked Lorenzo up and down. “And should I tell the Clave all the ways you’ve broken the Accords?” He stood slowly, sauntering toward Lorenzo, bringing a blast of cold air with him. The fireballs drifted down from the ceiling, floating a couple of feet above Lorenzo’s head. “Or contact the Spiral Labyrinth, let them know the things you allowed to happen to me under your watch? Magic taken away, kidnapped by a crazed warlock, a failed transfusion. The deal with Asmodeus that lost my magic was only necessary because you cut me off from everyone who would have supported my plan.” Lorenzo swallowed hard. He had been making a point to a subordinate. Surely, the Spiral Labyrinth would understand. Though there were still plenty of warlocks who supported Magnus. Lorenzo hadn’t been particularly popular, even before his disappearance. “You allowed a hero of the Clave to be tortured in Hell for a year. After all, I did save all of Alicante.” He could feel the heat from the fireballs above him, the cold from Magnus drawing near. “I should really thank you, Lorenzo. You made me the man I am today.” Magnus indicated himself with a sweep of his arms. There was something wrong about his smile, an echo of a demon Lorenzo had only seen in books. 

He nodded, watching Magnus carefully out of the corner of his eye. “What do you want?”

“I want the High Warlock position.”

Lorenzo tried to keep the tension from showing in his shoulders. “I can’t give that to you. You know that. There was a vote.”

“You can step down.” Magnus stepped into his personal space. Lorenzo was shivering, though the top of his head was starting to sweat. There was frost on the front of his jacket and he could smell his own hair singeing. “No one will vote against me.”

Lorenzo took a half a step back. “You realize that people will have to like you to vote for you. You’re not particularly likeable, right now.” Lorenzo felt something odd twist in his stomach. Fear. Magnus didn’t look likeable, he looked insane. Nothing like the man who had vanished a year ago.

Magnus grinned. And in that smile, everything changed. His outfit shifted to something bright, covered in glitter. The curtains drew back and light flooded the room. His eyes seemed to sparkle, a warm brown surrounded by black eyeliner. “Never underestimate the kind of show I can put on, Lorenzo,” he said, his voice a steady monotone, belying the illusion. The temperature around him plummeted. “Step down, and I’ll leave you here. You can go off and be High Warlock of Majorca or Dubai. I don’t care. But you’re not going to be the High Warlock of Brooklyn any longer. Understood?” Lorenzo hesitated, and Magnus stepped closer, brushing at the shoulders of Lorenzo’s jacket. He felt a spike of heat as a fireball passed close enough to make his hair move with its passing and let out an involuntary sound. “Or shall I send you to my father’s realm, and see how you like it there? He would so love a new friend, now that I’m gone.”

Lorenzo swallowed hard, looking into those falsely bright eyes. He had never been to Edom. Going there as an enemy of the greatest Prince of Hell who resided there wasn’t just idiotic, it was suicidal. He had no doubt that Magnus could make good on his threat. It wasn’t just cold radiating from him, but power. Pure, demonic power. “I’ll inform the Spiral Labyrinth this afternoon.”

“Perfect,” Magnus said with a smile. “Take a tropical vacation. Go see some lizards.” He gestured and the door opened behind them. “I trust that you can see yourself out.”

Lorenzo nodded stiffly, walking out of the room. He could practically feel it darkening behind him. He glanced back only once to see Magnus throwing himself back into the throne in the center of the room. Maybe it was Lorenzo’s imagination, but he could have sworn he saw something on his head, a blue jewel catching the light. 

By the afternoon, he was on a plane to Australia, putting as much of the globe as possible between himself and Magnus Bane.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated 4th of July for all my American readers! I know with everything going on, being patriotic is understandably a little hard to wrap our minds around. But I hope at the very least if you're near family (and were wearing masks and being responsible!), you got to take a little time off to spend with them. If you were stuck home alone like me, I hope the firework noise wasn't too obnoxious.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for the comments and kudos on the last chapter! It's so fun to see everyone's reactions. I took a little time off on Saturday to work on a personal project that's eating up more and more of my time, lately, but I'll still be uploading here a minimum of twice a week.
> 
> Thanks and enjoy!

Catarina took a deep breath. Something had shifted in Magnus. That much was obvious. From Alec’s description, she thought she might know what to expect. She knew what Magnus was like when he’d been through a breakup, how cold he could be. She knew how to handle him. She hoped she did, at least. She reached out and knocked on his door, surprised that she couldn’t feel his wards. Then again, maybe the cold ward Alec had felt had been Shadowhunter-specific. It was possible. Plenty of warlocks didn’t trust the Nephilim. Magnus had been one of them, off and on, for centuries. She stepped inside when the door opened of its own accord, raising an eyebrow.

The loft looked different. Whatever pentagram Alec had mentioned was gone. The main room was filled with light, though the furniture was darker than it had been. Lots of sleek, black leather. Accents in silvers and blues, not a color schemed she’d ever associated with Magnus. “Mags?” she called, not quite sure where he might be, and not wanting to sneak up on him.

“Catarina!”

Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t this. Magnus looked… perfectly normal. His eyes were smudged with eyeliner, but they were their normal, warm brown. He was wearing a red silk shirt and a pair of black leather pants. He held a martini in one hand and a potion bottle in the other. 

Cat couldn’t help herself. She grinned from ear to ear. “Magnus.”

She threw her arms around him, and if there was anything strange, it was that his touch was cooler than usual. Still, it was November, and the door to the balcony was cracked. “I can’t believe that you’re back.”

Magnus grinned back. “Can’t keep a good warlock down. Drink?” He handed her the martini, swallowing down whatever had been in the vial, and then moving to his drink cart.

“Alec came to see me last night. He seemed… worried,” Cat said carefully, watching Magnus for a reaction.

Magnus turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. “Yes, well, no one’s ever happy to see the ex that dumped them a year ago when returning from Hell. I think whatever grumpiness he’s ascribing to me was perfectly justified.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She hesitated. “So you were in Edom for the entire year? Did it… Did it feel like a year? Are you okay?”

Magnus shrugged, his posture stiffening slightly. “Well, it didn’t feel like an hour.” At her look, he sighed. “I don’t know. It was certainly longer than a year, but I couldn’t tell you how long. Not more than a decade. I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if it’d been that long. I went, I did as my father asked, and I came back. Simple as that.”

Catarina hummed. “Simple as that? When it comes to your father, nothing is ever that simple.”

Magnus shot her a dark look. “What do you want me to say? That I enjoyed my time in Hell? That I prefer it to here? That’s ridiculous. It was Edom. My father is… his normal, manipulative self.” He shrugged his shoulders, and for a moment, she thought she saw something vulnerable in the set of them. She walked up and laid a hand on his shoulder. His remarkably cool shoulder. 

“And he let you return here? No questions asked?”

“That was the deal,” Magnus said simply, lifting his martini to his lips. “One year in Edom for sealing up the rift in Alicante. One year of my life to save all the Shadowhunters I’d cared about. My father wouldn’t break a deal.” There was something a little odd in his voice at the mention of the Nephilim, but that was to be expected. He’d sacrificed a lot for a people who hadn’t done much in return.

Catarina’s expression softened. “I’m so sorry, Magnus. That must have been terrible. But you did what was right. You saved them. So many would have died that night, if you hadn’t done it.”

Magnus nodded, jaw slightly tight. “Yes, well, I’m glad everyone here thinks it was worth it. It was certainly an… enlightening experience.”

Cat tipped her head. “Are you okay, Mags? Really? It’s just me.”

Magnus lifted his hand to lay over hers on his shoulder. His fingers were freezing. “I’m okay, Cat,” he said softly. “I’m back. And I’m- Let’s just say I’ll be far more hesitant to get involved in Clave affairs for the next hundred years or so. I’m here.” He brightened, turning to look at her, snapping to make another martini appear in his hand. “I’ve already got plans to keep myself busy. Lorenzo stopped by earlier. He wants to step down as High Warlock. If there’s a vote, I think I can swing it. Soon, I’ll have my position back. I have my powers. I’m as close to alright as I can be.” 

Cat smiled, the tension flooding out of her shoulders. “Of course you’ll win the vote. After what you did to save us all from the invasion from Edom? No one here would dare to vote against you. I’ll talk to everyone, let them know that you’re here and back to your fabulous self.” She leaned in and gently kissed his cheek. She knew they’d want an assessment, given what they’d all felt when Magnus had arrived in New York. She could still remember the cold that felt like it was trying to give her soul frostbite. She shook her head to clear it. “I’m so happy that you’re back. I’ll bring Madzie for a visit, soon. I know she’s missed you. You have a lot to catch up on.”

Magnus’s expression was soft, and if his eyes looked a little strange, that was hardly unexpected given what he’d been through. “I would love that, Catarina. And thank you for coming by. It means the world.”

She was perfectly relaxed as she slipped out of the apartment. That terrible cold she’d felt the night before was gone, replaced by the sense of Magnus’s magic, same as it always was. Maybe he was a little different. Maybe he wasn’t quite his happy-go-lucky self. But he was still Magnus, under it all. He was going to be fine. They were all going to be fine.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the love on the last chapter! Every comment, kudo, and view makes me smile like you wouldn't believe. I hope y'all are still enjoying this story, because it's a blast to write.
> 
> Enjoy some actual Malec interaction in this one!

“Alec, he’s really okay.”

Alec stared at Catarina. They’d been running in circles with this conversation, but he still couldn’t believe what she was saying. “You felt the cold around him. You know what I’m talking about. He’s not fine.”

“No,” Catarina said firmly, “I didn’t. Not yesterday. You saw him right after he’d been sent back from Edom. You’ve never been there, Alec, you don’t understand what that’s like. He spent a year in hell and popped up to see his ex standing in his living room. Of course he was cold toward you.”

Alec flinched, but the words were fair. Cat didn’t know any more about their breakup than Magnus had. To her, she’d left him because it was what he’d wanted. “But you told me that his magic felt strange. You’re the one who told me he felt frozen. And I- You saw my hand. That was after an Iratze. If I were mundane, I would’ve had my whole hand amputated from frostbite!”

“Yes. He had an extremely powerful ward up around his apartment. But you tried to push through it, Alec. It’s not like he cursed you and hurt you on purpose. You tried to get to him when he didn’t want you there.” Cat shook her head. “Look, I know that you want this to be something dramatic and curable, but maybe this is just how Magnus is going to be, for a while. He was in Edom longer than you think. Time runs differently there.”

Alec winced. “Did he say how long?”

Catarina shook her head. “Less than a decade, according to him. He spent years with his father, a Greater Demon, in Hell. So, he came back with a penchant for black leather and stronger wards around his living space. He may have been using them down there to keep demons from trying to eat him in his sleep.” She reached over the table and gently squeezed Alec’s hand. “Go talk to him, yourself. You’ll see. He’s not broken and he’s not some monster. In fact, as of this afternoon, he’s been reinstated as the High Warlock of Brooklyn.”

Alec’s brow furrowed. “High Warlock? What about Lorenzo?”

“Well, apparently, his experience as a lizard was so traumatic that he’s decided to seek other opportunities. His words, not mine. He went on an extended vacation. Good riddance. He was a terrible High Warlock.”

“You don’t find that at all suspicious?”

Cat’s eyes cooled a little. “That the man who saved all of Alicante and kept demons from ripping apart our world took over the title of High Warlock? No, Alec, I don’t find that suspicious at all. And maybe you should try giving Magnus the benefit of the doubt.” 

She grabbed her coffee and stood. “Go see him. He may be a little bit different, but he’s still the same man.”

Alec was a coward.

Really, he should have gone straight to Magnus’s apartment after his conversation with Cat. But there was something about those cold, black eyes, something that he couldn’t shake. It made him nervous. He didn’t want to see that lack, the fierce, proud way he’d held his head, the traits that were almost like his Magnus, and yet, wrong. 

And so, he waited.

In the end, the choice was taken from his hands.

They discovered a young warlock had been summoning demons in Harlem. She had a whole den of the things. They knew the location of her lair, but they couldn’t get in. Her wards were too heavy, and she was too well guarded. They needed the help of a warlock. The warlock. The High Warlock of Brooklyn. 

He straightened his blazer and tucked the box under his arm, standing outside of Magnus’s familiar door. He reached his hand out almost tentatively, feeling for the wards that had burned him. Nothing. He wasn’t cold. Not even when he laid his hand on the wood of the door. He knocked twice, waiting a moment before lifting his hand for a third. The door opened automatically before he could make contact.

He stepped inside, blinking against the light. The curtains were pulled aside and the sun was setting, shining in his eyes. In front of the windows was a chair, placed exactly where the pentagram had been. For a moment, Alec could have sworn he was looking at black stone and bone. But then he blinked, and the chair was simple, comfortable leather. Magnus had rearranged, that was all. 

Alec moved a little further into the room. It felt familiar, and not. Like trying to come home again after years of being away. In a way, he supposed that’s exactly what it was.

Magnus swept into the room wearing something burgundy and orange and very shiny, catching the light from the setting sun. He was blinding. His hair was spiked, streaked through with red, and he was wearing pants that made Alec want to stare, though he didn’t let himself. He had a martini in one hand as he stopped in front of Alec.

Alec shivered. Despite the light of the sun, it wasn’t warm in the room. He cleared his throat. “Magnus. I- I’ve wanted to see you. I didn’t think I was welcome after the incident with the wards.”

“Never try to get into a warlock’s home when you aren’t invited. You ought to remember that lesson, Alec.” His eyes were the brown that Alec remembered, but there was something off in them. They weren’t sparkling quite right. All the good humor felt put-upon. A lie. His voice was as chilly as the room. 

Alec tipped his head slightly to acknowledge the point. He wouldn’t be trying that again. He shifted the box under his arm. “I- ah, the Institute needs your help.”

Magnus’s expression closed as he became more distant. “Does it, now?” He hummed. “Well, then, the Institute should learn to send someone else to ask. I’m not much of one for doing favors for you, right now.”

Alec closed his eyes. “I- I know. I need to tell you about that. There’s so much more to the story that I-,” that he couldn’t tell him without Magnus’s magic going away. He set his jaw, straightening his spine and opening his eyes. “I thought you were dead, Magnus. I thought that something terrible happened when you got your magic back.”

For the first time, Alec saw something that looked like a genuine emotion in Magnus’s eyes. A flicker of surprise. “When I got my magic back? How did you know that happened before I vanished?”

Alec frowned, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. I was worried something had gone wrong. That’s all. And you- you were gone. Cat couldn’t feel you, couldn’t track you. I couldn’t. So I- I’m just really glad that you’re okay.”

Magnus’s expression darkened for a moment. Then, like a light had been switched, he was back to that off-putting lightness. “Yes, well, I’m perfectly fine, thank you for noticing. Is that why you stopped by? To stutter at me about how you thought I was dead?”

“Why did you hurt Helen?”

It wasn’t the question he’d meant to ask. He was here to ask for Magnus’s help, not antagonize him. But he felt the temperature in the room drop another degree. It was a mask. All of this. An act. But why? He looked Magnus in the eyes, searching for the man he loved. “Was it you? Or was it your father?”

Magnus’s jaw set and he drank down the rest of his martini, breaking eye contact to move to his cart and make another. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Alec walked up behind him. “I won’t tell the Clave. I’m not going to turn you in. Cat said it felt like your magic. Stronger than it had been. But you’re stronger, now. I just don’t understand why. You don’t even know Helen.”

Magnus stiffened, then turned to face him, and his eyes were black, cold as ice. Alec felt a shiver run down his spine. Still, somehow this was better. More honest, at least. Magnus made a gesture, and the box he’d been carrying- Magnus’s box of mementos that he’d been using to try to track him- was gone. Magnus was holding it in his hands. He was radiating cold. Even the sun didn’t seem quite so bright. “You know, the Clave can’t pay me for a favor in my own property,” he said quietly, running his fingers over the lid of the box. “You were so obsessed that you were going to end up in here. A little note, a picture, one of your arrowheads.” He looked up and met Alec’s eyes. Alec had the sinking sensation that he would never make it to the box, now. The way Magnus was looking at him, he wasn’t a fond memory. The thought made his breath stutter in his chest. “I’m the High Warlock again, and I won’t be doing anything for the Institute for free. You can hire me, if you can afford me. But handing me my own things and accusing me of attacking one of your own isn’t the way to get on my good side.” He waved his hand and the door banged open, falling off one of its hinges with the force of Magnus’s magic.

Alec swallowed hard. “What happened to you?” he asked quietly. “Magnus, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be this person.”

Magnus laughed, and the sound was bitter in the cold room. “I suggest you get out, Alec. After all, according to you, I’m a danger to Shadowhunters. Maybe you don’t want to try me.”

Alec stared at him for a long moment and then nodded mutely. His feet were numb as he walked through the door. He glanced back over his shoulder as he stepped into the hall. Magnus was turned away, one hand on the throne. He was leaning on it, almost as though he needed its stability. Alec hesitated. He could go to him, try to convince him to talk, see if he could find that little glimmer of whatever was left of his Magnus, buried under whatever had happened to him. He took a breath and turned away, heading back to the Institute. He had to accept the fact that his Magnus was gone. Maybe he had been from the moment Alec had broken his heart.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past week has been unbelievably stressful at work. I cannot thank you guys enough for the kudos, comments, bookmarks, simply reading the story. You manage to make me smile every single day, and it's such a pleasant thing to come home to.
> 
> Please feel free to keep telling me what you like (and what you don't!) in the comments. I love to hear from y'all!
> 
> PS: More Malec interaction! Yay!

It took effort to keep up the happy-go-lucky charade. It was easy with Cat. He knew her. He knew what she was expecting. A little bit of vulnerability mixed with a lot of bravado. She expected him to shut down partially, push through the pain. That was simple. 

But Alexander. 

He had this terrible habit of sinking under Magnus’s skin. He’d always been able to do that. Since the first time they’d met, when Alec had saved Magnus’s life and then utterly ignored him. He’d made Magnus feel things for the first time in nearly a century. Of course seeing him had made it all come undone.

But he’d been carrying that damned box. And mentioning the girl. The Faerie Shadowhunter girl. Magnus could still hear her screaming, see the images that his father had put in front of him. Alec, laughing and smiling and happy. Magnus had hated her for making Alec happy. He felt vaguely sick. He sealed off his apartment, abandoning Maloch to whatever he was doing for the rest of the day. He splayed himself across the chair that felt somehow too much and too little like a throne, and started throwing fireballs in the air. He felt more than heard his father turn his window into a portal, and turned slowly.

“You’re feeling sorry for yourself.”

“I had a visit from the ex.” Magnus threw a fireball directly at the portal. It froze on the surface, then vanished in a puff of orange.

“And so you’re sulking? You are royalty, Magnus. Royalty doesn’t sulk.”

“This royalty does.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m allowed to be upset when he shows up in my apartment.”

“Not if you want to make the changes you want to make. Rturning to earth, taking all of this on, it was your idea. Do you need a reminder of that?”

“No.” Magnus took a breath and shifted so he was sitting in the chair properly. He didn’t do it often, but it always seemed to calm Asmodeus down. “No, father, I don’t need a reminder. I can gather power here, but I have to do it the right way.”

“And the right way means?”

“Playing nice with the Shadowhunters, at least for now. Biding time.”

Asmodeus smiled and nodded. “You’ve always been the cleverest of my children. You have a plan. Prince on Earth. That’s what you called yourself. Don’t let yourself be distracted by your little crush.”

Magnus’s eyes drifted to the box on the table and he nodded. “You’re right. I’ve been distracted for too long.”

“I love you, son.” 

Magnus looked at him and nodded. “I know.” Whatever else he was, whatever else he felt, Asmodeus loved him. He was the only one who did. It strengthened Magnus’s resolve. He turned in his chair as the window cleared, reaching into his pocket. The omamori charm was there, same as it always had been. He ran his thumb over it. It was starting to wear thin at the edges. Protection. Good fortune. Alec had been so wrong. He sighed and climbed out of his chair to get dressed.

Magnus raised his eyebrow at Raj. “So, you made it back from Wrangle Island. Impressive.”

“We have no orders to let you through, Downworlder.” He said it as an insult. Magnus let his smile turn a little cool.

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t, Shadowhunter. But since the Head of this Institute was in my apartment today, asking me for favors, you’re going to let me in.”

Raj crossed his arms over his chest. “And if I don’t?”

“Then maybe you’re asking for a rematch.” Magnus let the blue glow start at his fingertips, grinning.

“Magnus?”

He blinked. He’d been expecting Alec, not Izzy. He pulled the magic back and made sure his eyes were right before smiling slightly at her. “Hello, Isabelle. I’d give you a hug, but the Institute seems to have put an idiot on door duty.”

“You have no right to go in there!” Raj sounded like a toddler. Maybe Magnus should find a way to turn back the clock for him, trap him as a squalling infant. It would fit a bit too well. He turned his Cheshire Cat smile on Isabelle, and she ate it up, pushing past Raj to throw her arms around his neck.

“Oh, god, you’re freezing! We can’t just leave you out in the cold.” She bodily pushed Raj out of the way. “I know Alec came to see you, earlier, but he said you weren’t going to help us.”

“Yes, well,” Magnus said with a sad smile, “it’s hard to do much of anything for Alec, right now.”

Izzy shot him a look so full of honest sympathy that it twisted something in his gut. If she cared, then why hadn’t she looked for him? Why hadn’t she visited him since his ‘miraculous’ return? He’d always thought of Isabelle as a friend. He’d talked her through dozens of fashion choices. He knew she was the one that always gave Alec the push he needed to make up when they were fighting. So why had she abandoned him? He pushed it down, forcing a bit more warmth to his skin.

“You okay?” Izzy asked quietly, her expression equal parts sympathetic and confused. “I feel like I lost you there, for a moment.”

“Sorry,” Magnus said with a wave of his hand. “Side effect of my time away. I’m a bit more distractible, these days.” He gestured toward the entrance of the Institute. “Lead the way.”

He took a breath, making sure his smile was on, his eyes were bright, and followed Izzy toward Alexander.

Izzy knocked on the door and Magnus heard Alec’s voice through the wood. It made something ache in his chest. “No, Jace, I don’t have a plan, ye-“ Smile on. Magnus swept through the door behind Isabelle. 

“Look who came to help,” Izzy said brightly.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Magnus said with a smile that was almost real. “I came to talk to your brother. I still don’t even know the situation.”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “Alec, you managed to drive him away by talking about your relationship before even asking for help?”

Magnus raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. She wasn’t wrong. Alec looked nauseous. He kept shuffling the papers on his desk like they would hide his nerves. Magnus saw straight through him, though he kept his own expression neutral. “Let’s just say the conversation didn’t go according to plan.”

Magnus sighed quietly, turning to Alec’s sister. “Izzy, would you mind giving us a minute?”

Izzy brightened, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll just close the door. Maybe put a soundless rune on the outside.” Magnus’s nose wrinkled, but he managed to smooth his expression before she turned back to wink at him.

“What are you doing here?” Alec’s voice was harsh. It might have been offensive if he didn’t sound so breathless. He was taken off-guard. In Alec, that always meant he’d sound angry. “You made it pretty clear that you have no desire to work with me.”

Magnus turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Do you blame me?” he asked simply. “You dumped me and I went to Hell for a year. My actions are justified.”

Alec searched his expression and Magnus hoped he’d done a better job than he had before. His friendly expression was perfect, as far as he’d been able to tell in the mirror. Still, Alec looked suspicious. Before he could say anything, Magnus waved his hand. “This isn’t the time or place to have this discussion. I’m fine. And I’m here as the High Warlock of Brooklyn. You need a warlock’s help. Your Institute is in trouble, or I never would have seen you. So talk.”

Alec opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. Magnus could practically see the argument he was having with himself. But duty would always win with Alexander. With a sigh, he nodded. “There’s a rogue warlock in Harlem who’s been calling in a horde of demons. She’s keeping them like pets. There are three dead mundanes, and one dead Shadowhunter. We can’t get anywhere near her because of the horde and the wards. We were hoping you could portal us in or help with the attack. Maybe talk some sense into her. We can send her to the Gard, if we can get cuffs on her.”

“No,” Magnus’s voice was flat. He was slipping. He cleared his throat, waved his hands, anything to distract from the fact that he knew the warlock Alec meant. “No, I can’t portal you in. I don’t know where she is. I haven’t heard any reports from my end about a warlock summoning demons.” Not strictly true. She’d been borrowing bits and pieces of his father’s army. But there was no reason for Alec to know that. 

Alec sighed. “Right. Well, are you willing to help us with the attack? You’d be able to portal us out of there, if need be, and you’re amazing in a fight. Not to mention she’s got wards up. That’s what ended up killing the Shadowhunter.”

Magnus thought quickly. “I have conditions.”

Alec nodded. “Payment, I assume.”

Magnus nodded. “Of course.”

“And what do you want?”

So very many options. He remembered a similar conversation from what felt like ages ago. I’ll do you pro bono. The words echoed in his head, and Magnus’s expression hardened. “I want what’s mine,” he said simply. “From Izzy’s trial. I want your bow and quiver.”

Alec froze. Magnus could see the wheels turning as he tried to figure out why Magnus would ask such a low price. He didn’t know, himself. He straightened his shoulders, one eyebrow raised. Alec wasn’t going to ruin his own mission for the sake of one weapon. And he was right. Alec nodded. “Done.”

“One more thing,” Magnus said, causing Alec to look at him with a questioning expression. “The warlock doesn’t go to the Gard.”

Alec blinked. “What?”

“The warlock doesn’t go to the Gard. She comes with me. I’ll discuss punishment with the Spiral Labyrinth, and we’ll figure out what to do with her.”

He could tell Alec didn’t like the idea. “Why?”

“Because,” Magnus said simply, “I don’t trust what the Clave does with Downworld prisoners, and I prefer a pattern of rehabilitation to imprisonment. Let’s just say that being a prisoner in Hell for a year changes a man.” The best lies were mixed with truth. He didn’t trust the Clave to treat her in anything close to a civil fashion. And if she just so happened to help his cause, so be it.

Alec hesitated. In that hesitation, Magnus could see him weighing the options. Alec didn’t trust him. He didn’t like what he’d seen at the flat. But Alec would always, always put Shadowhunter well-being above everything else. Even the people he loved, if they didn’t have Nephilim blood. “Agreed. You get my bow and quiver, and the warlock is remanded into your custody, for the time being.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow, eyes cold. Alec’s gaze was hard, uncompromising. “I want to be informed of her punishment,” Alec said firmly. “I’ll have to tell the Clave, and they’ll want to know that it was handled internally. Since she wasn’t the one who killed the Shadowhunter, it was a demon that may not have been under her control, I think I can spin it.”

Magnus hummed. He straightened his spine, putting on his friendly expression, and held out his hand. “Agreed.”

Magnus shook Alec’s hand. He felt him shiver at the touch. Magnus knew it was uncomfortable. Touching his skin was like touching ice. Good. After so long, it was about time Alec felt the cold.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the love and support and comments on the last chapter. I absolutely adore getting to talk to y'all about the story, finding out how you're reacting to different parts of it, seeing how passionately you all love our favorite warlock. Y'all make my day!
> 
> I apologize for my self-imposed tardiness on this chapter. I typically update Mondays and Thursdays (and the occasional Saturday), but this week got away from me. Work is a little insane for the next couple of weeks, but I will do my best to always update twice a week. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience!

The warlock’s lair was an old brownstone that looked like it should have been condemned years ago. The roof was falling apart. The windows were boarded shut. The paint on the door and windows was peeling, raw wood showing underneath. Magnus had portaled them close, the way he had dozens of times before his disappearance. It made something twist in Alec’s gut, but he ignored it. He couldn’t be distracted by Magnus when they had demons to fight. He had a team of half a dozen Shadowhunters with him, along with Izzy and Jace. Magnus was standing behind Alec and to the left, his hands dripping blue sparks and snow. There was a wave of cold coming off him that no one had commented on, but everyone seemed to have noticed. Even Izzy was keeping her distance. 

“Okay,” Alec said quietly, “we’ll split up. Izzy and Jace, take half of the team and go around the back. Magnus, you’re with me and the other half. We’ll take the front. Kill the demons, but try not to hurt the warlock, if you can help it.” If he hadn’t known Magnus so well, he wouldn’t have noticed the way he stiffened. “Magnus is going to break down the wards and send some kind of signal. Don’t try to break in until you see it.”

“No arguments from me,” Jace said with a shrug. He looked to his half of the team. “These wards have already killed someone. Be careful.” He nodded to Alec and gestured for his team to follow him, slipping around the edge of the building. 

Alec nodded to his parabatai and stepped toward the brownstone. His team stopped just outside the front door, and Alec stepped aside to let Magnus past. Magnus laid his hand on the wood, blue magic sparking. Alec raised an eyebrow. “So? How bad are they?”

Magnus’s expression was unreadable as he shook his head. “Not terrible. Give me a few moments, and I’ll get rid of them.”

Alec nodded. “Just be careful. I don’t want her to know we’re coming. That’s my sister and my parabatai around the back of the house.”

Magnus’s expression was dark. “I’m well aware of who’s here, Alexander.”

Alec blinked. It was the first time Magnus had used his full name since coming back. It made his stomach twist. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. It wasn’t the time to deal with his relationship issues. He watched pulses of blue energy flow over the door and around the house. Magnus was chanting something in a language he didn’t know. It sounded harsh and sent chills up his spine, all hard consonants and clipped vowels.

Eventually, the flow of blue magic stopped. Magnus raised his hand and a single red spark flew into the sky, high enough to be seen from the back of the house. “Wards are down,” Magnus said quietly, stepping out of the way.

Alec nodded, stepping forward. “Be careful,” he said to his team of Shadowhunters. “Keep each other safe.” He shot them a meaningful look and indicated Magnus. He wasn’t letting him be hurt, no matter what was happening in their personal lives. “Let’s go.” 

He led the Shadowhunters inside. The lights were dim, flickering. He could see movement in the shadows, fast and unnatural. He squinted, but couldn’t see what was coming for them. He grabbed his stele to activate his night vision rune, and the lights failed completely, plunging them into darkness. Something dark and leathery leapt at his face, and it was all he could do to duck out of the way. He heard a scream as it found a target behind him.

A seraph blade lit in the darkness to his left, and one of his fellow Shadowhunters was fighting something large, hulking, and seemingly made entirely of tar. A lizard thing was climbing on the wall above him. Alec grabbed for his bow and let loose an arrow, the lizard screaming as it vanished back to its Hell dimension. He saw a flash of movement and nocked another arrow, trying to aim at a demon fighting one of his team. He couldn’t see well enough to get a clear shot. “Magnus!” he called, “We could use a little light, here!”

There was no answer. Magnus was standing near the door of the house, hands spread wide. Maybe he was holding back some sort of magic. Maybe he was doing nothing. Alec couldn’t tell. He didn’t have time to question it as he heard movement in front of him. He looked up to see the vague shape of something flying toward his face. Even in the darkness, he could see that it was huge. Its wingspan shouldn’t have allowed it to move in the hallway, much less fly, but it managed. It had bat wings, each ending in a talon that glinted in the dim light and looked as sharp as a razor blade. Its body was covered in oily feathers, dripping something black and viscous onto the floor. Its mouth was a circular hole full of serrated teeth, and it had no eyes. Alec shot an arrow, hitting it in the center of its chest. The demon kept coming, unphased by the arrow sticking out of its skin. Alec scrambled for another, but the demon was moving toward him too quickly. He reached for his seraph blade, and then Magnus was standing in front of him.

Magnus’s voice boomed into the darkness in a language that sounded like the crackling of flames. The demon slowed in its attack. In his peripheral vision, Alec could see the rest of the demons in the dimly lit room freeze at the sound of Magnus’s voice. One of them was perfectly still, even as a seraph blade separated its head from its shoulders. 

Alec could feel the wave of cold emanating from Magnus. His fingers were glowing a blue so deep it was almost black, the only source of light beyond the mostly boarded-up windows. Magnus hissed something as he lifted his hand, fingers curling into a fist. He pulled his hand down toward the floor, and the demon screamed, crumpling in on itself. Alec could hear the bones popping inside of its body. He felt vaguely sick. And then it was gone. 

The demons watching all shifted. It was a subtle movement, but as Magnus’s hands lifted again, Alec could have sworn he saw their heads bow. Magnus made a gesture, and the lights brightened, casting a cheery yellow glow over the scene in front of them. 

There were four demons remaining in the room. They fled through the door, edging their way around Magnus in a way that might have been respectful. Two of the three Shadowhunters who had been with Alec were down, bleeding on the floor. Alec couldn’t tell if they were alive or dead. Only one was still standing, limping on a twisted or broken ankle. Everyone was covered in ichor. The hallway reeked of dead and dying demon. Magnus looked unhurt, but he was as filthy as the rest of them. He stepped past Alec without comment, moving to support the injured Shadowhunter.

Alec stared after him. He had saved Alec’s life. Sent the demons away. Maybe he’d been helping from his position near the door. Maybe the demons had simply fled because they’d realized a powerful warlock was with them. Alec closed his eyes and took a breath, nose wrinkling at the stench in the house. There were a million unanswered questions, but they needed to cut the demonic activity off at the source. They had to find the warlock. Later, he could ask Magnus about the rest.

“Okay,” he said quietly, “upstairs.” He could hear the sounds of battle at the back of the house. He felt Jace’s fight through his parabatai bond. At least Jace was still alright. If Izzy was hurt, he’d feel Jace’s worry. His family would be safe as soon as they had the warlock in custody. “Follow me.”

He drew his bow again as they walked upstairs, ready to take down anything he could see. The lights stayed bright as they approached a door that seemed to shimmer in front of them. “Magnus?”

Magnus pushed past him, laying his hand on the door. “More wards,” Magnus said quietly. There was a single pulse of blue power, a whispered word, and the door exploded, debris flying into the room. The shards hit several demons that had been standing too close. They whirled as though to attack, and then stopped as Magnus walked into the room.

Alec followed, feeling extremely uneasy. They should be attacking. There were twenty demons or more in what had once been a living room. The wooden floor was broken through in several places, jagged shards of wood sticking straight up. Walls had been knocked down into the kitchen and living spaces so that the demons could fit. They were all shapes and sizes, claws and teeth and wings all shuffling as they stared at the men entering the room. Magnus left the injured Shadowhunter standing against the wall as he walked into the center of the room. Alec followed, an arrow nocked in his bow, sweepin it around the room until he spotted the warlock. 

She was sitting in a chair placed right in front of the windows. Despite himself, Alec thought of Magnus’s chair in his newly-decorated loft. His throne. The woman was slight, blonde, and looked about seventeen. She was grinning at them. Behind her, he could see the lights of the street outside. 

“Magnus Bane. I didn’t think I’d see you here with Shadowhunters so soon. And killing my pets, at that.” She didn’t sound seventeen. She had the throaty, scratchy voice of an old woman who had smoked far too much in her lifetime.

Alec stepped forward. “Under the authority of the Clave, you are under arrest for summoning a horde of demons.”

Magnus shot Alec a dark look. His eyes were black. Alec shivered, but held his ground, even as Magnus stepped forward. He started speaking in what might have been German. Alec’s eyes went a little blank as he tried to catch the occasional word. He’d studied German, briefly, when he’d been considering a travel year at the Berlin institute. ‘Demon’. ‘Son’. ‘Asmodeus’. He caught that one loud and clear. He looked between the two of them, but they were ignoring him. Magnus’s voice was steady, full of an authority Alec had rarely heard there before. The woman sounded annoyed, defensive, deferential, changing on a dime.

“Magnus,” Alec said quietly. He didn’t so much as turn. 

‘Safe’. ‘Trust’. ‘Nephilim’. Alec could feel the demons stepping closer. 

“Magnus. English.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Lorelai, the Clave has given me the authority to house you until judgment may be rendered by the Spiral Labyrinth. You will not be sent to the Gard.”

Her expression was incredulous as she looked between the two of them. She responded in German, speaking so quickly that Alec didn’t have a chance to catch anything but the German word for Shadowhunters. Alec’s brow furrowed. He was certain he hadn’t heard the warlock’s name in their brief conversation. How could Magnus know it? He shook it off, glaring at a demon drawing too close to him, tightening his grip on his bow. 

Magnus was facing away, but there was something odd in his voice when he answered. “Do you doubt me?”

Alec cleared his throat. “Magnus, Izzy and Jace are still fighting. We need to get these demons out of here.” He grabbed for a pair of cuffs from his belt and tossed them in Magnus’s direction.

Magnus caught them with ease without looking, walking behind Lorelai and carefully taking her wrists. Alec didn’t like the way that he was looking at her, the way that he was speaking to her, so quietly that Alec couldn’t hear it. Magnus was hiding something. 

And then Magnus was in front of the cuffed warlock, smiling at Alec the way he always had, eyes a bright, warm brown in the gloom of the room. “Right. Well, let’s get rid of these, then.” He raised his arms and closed his eyes, gathering blue power at his fingertips. The room was silent as the tension built around him. He drove both hands toward the ground and there was a splintering sound as the floor started to shake. It heaved up, a massive ripple expanding outward from Magnus’s feet. Alec braced himself, but the wooden floor underneath him didn’t move. He felt nothing but a stiff, cold breeze as the magic passed him. Each demon lost its footing on the heaving wooden planks and vanished. It didn’t look like it died, it simply popped out of existence. Alec had never seen anything like it.

“Magnus,” he said quietly. “How did you-“

Magnus gave a little bow, tipping an invisible hat. “I need to take care of my prisoner.” 

Alec shook his head, stepping forward. He could hear Izzy calling for him from the suddenly silent back of the house, and the injured Shadowhunter was sliding down the wall, losing consciousness. “Magnus, I need to-“

Alec looked, and Magnus was standing in front of him. He was wearing a calculating expression as he held out his hand. “Of course. You’re right. Payment for services rendered, first.”

Alec frowned, shaking his head. “What?”

Magnus raised a perfect eyebrow. “No more freebies. We discussed payment before all of this began.”

Feeling numb, Alec handed over his bow. He slipped his quiver off his shoulder and passed it to Magnus. Last time, Magnus had let him keep them. He felt oddly off-balance without his gear. Vulnerable. He’d had his bow and quiver on every mission he’d ever completed. Magnus snapped, and they vanished, hopefully back to his loft and not into the ether somewhere Alec could never see them again. “That’s it?” Alec asked, looking into Magnus’s eyes. It was like a door had slammed shut behind them. He was cool, calm, collected, perfectly at ease in the ruined brownstone that reeked of Sulphur.

“That’s it,” Magnus said with a nod. “Until next time, Shadowhunter.” He waved his hand and a portal appeared beside him. He gripped Lorelai’s arm and dragged her through, the air slamming closed behind them. Magnus had his prisoner. The warlock had been stopped. The demons were gone. Alec took a breath, shoving down the uncomfortable twisting in his stomach as he helped the injured Shadowhunter to his feet. He needed to coordinate medical teams, bring everyone home to the Institute, write a report to the Clave. Tonight had been a victory, all things considered. So why did Alec feel so much like they’d lost?


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I managed to miss my self-imposed deadline this week, I wanted to make sure you guys were able to have a chapter on Saturday. 
> 
> Thank you all for the comments on the last chapter. I appreciate hearing what you think. Please feel free to continue to let me know, it always makes me smile to get the notification.

Alec stood in front of the extremely familiar door, taking steadying breaths. He’d been a lot of things around Magnus before, but he’d never been afraid. Nervous, sure, back before they’d decided what they were, together. When he’d still worried about what the Clave thought, how Jace and Izzy would react to who he was. But he hadn’t felt those nerves in a long time. And it was different from the twist in his gut that he was experiencing now, standing in front of this door. He shook his head, took a deep breath, and knocked.

He stepped into the apartment when the door opened, raising an eyebrow. The curtains were drawn away from the windows, the room bright and beautiful. Magnus was lounging on the sofa, though the chair was still in the center of the room. Alec’s eyes were drawn to it. Simple, black leather. He closed his eyes for a moment and then stepped closer. “Magnus. We should talk.”

Magnus yawned dramatically and then turned to smile at Alec. “Should we? The prisoner is secure,” his voice was mockingly serious. “I’m in the process of talking with the Spiral Labyrinth. We aren’t quite as organized as the Clave.” 

Alec shook his head. “No, not about that. I figure you needed some time to work through the politics. I’m not here as Head of the Institute.”

Mangus hummed and nodded. “Of course. It’s such a shame when politics get in the way of justice, don’t you agree?”

Alec heard the barb in the comment. He sighed, stepping toward the couch, looking into Magnus’s too-dark eyes. “I owe you a thank you.”

Magnus blinked, shifting to sit a little straighter, his expression wary. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You saved my life.” Alec was only a foot away from the sofa, now. He sat carefully beside Magnus, leaving space between them. He propped one leg on the couch so that he could face him. “When that demon was going to kill me, you stepped between it and me. You saved me.”

Magnus’s eyes went wide and then his expression turned sour, and Alec could have sworn he felt a little pulse of energy. The windows darkened slightly. Maybe it was just a cloud passing over the sun. “I didn’t,” he said quietly. “I did what I needed to do to get us into her lair.”

Alec shook his head. “The demons were tearing us apart, but not you. You could have reached her lair without saving my life. I’m grateful, Magnus. You didn’t have to save me. That fight was a bloodbath. We lost so many good men.”

Magnus hummed. “How many died?” His tone was completely blank, no worry, but no joy, either.

Alec closed his eyes for a moment. “Two on our team,” he said eventually. “One on Jace’s. The man who was with us in the end, who was injured, we were able to save him. You saved him, too, actually. We had a potion available at the Institute for the poison. Something you made for us ages ago.”

Magnus nodded, and Alec could see relief in his eyes, and something else. Regret, maybe? He didn’t understand why Magnus was fighting that instinct. He’d always cared when people were hurt or dying. He’d always put himself in the line of fire to save other people, no matter how much he’d pretended to be unaffected. Alec knew the changes in Magnus’s behavior were at least partially his fault. His jaw set and he took a slow breath. Not partially his fault. Entirely his fault. He’d made the deal that had put Magnus in Hell. He’d been avoiding that thought for far too long. Now that the danger had passed, he could let himself feel that guilt. “You saved him. And me. And probably Izzy and Jace, by banishing all of those demons. Izzy’s got a brand new scar and had to spend a little time with the Silent Brothers, but everyone’s safe. Because of you, saving us again.”

Magnus was agitated as he stood and moved to his drink cart. “Well, I’m glad she’s fine. Your sister, your parabatai, you, all perfectly fine. Isn’t that convenient?” He poured himself a martini. “Why are you here?”

Alec watched his movements. So close to the person he’d known, but not. Guilt twisted in his stomach. “What happened to you?”

Magnus was facing away from him, but Alec could see the way his shoulders went rigid at the question. “You happened to me. Jocelyn Fairchild happened to me. I should have known- I did know- better than to get involved in Shadowhunters’ affairs. It never ends well. I’d be happily drunk in Pandemonium, probably taking some sprite to bed tonight.”

“Magnus-“

“But no. I got involved. I made mistakes. I made deals.” He turned back to face Alec. His eyes were dark, but instead of looking coldly angry, he looked lost. “I made choices.” He tipped his drink to Alec and took a sip, leaning back against the cart. 

Alec shook his head, heart aching for the man he loved. He’d had a difficult time with the differences in Magnus. He hadn’t been able to recognize him, at first. And still, there was something sinister here. He couldn’t hide from that. But in this moment, Magnus was the person he’d always known. He was hurt, but that hadn’t destroyed him. “Everyone makes mistakes,” Alec said quietly. “Everyone makes the choices they have to make to survive. And you didn’t even make the deals you made for you, Magnus. You chose to go to Edom for us. We owe you for that.” He shook his head, standing. “I owe you for that. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. I know that you’ll only ever tell me when you’re ready. But I wanted to tell you what happened last night. I wanted you to know how many people you’d saved. Because I know it matters to you, Magnus. You’re still a good person. Even if you don’t think you are, I know that’s true.”

Magnus’s jaw set. “You have no idea what I am.”

“Yes, I do,” Alec said quietly, “because you’re still the man that I-,” he didn’t know if saying it would make things worse or make them better. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Magnus. I was so focused for so long on getting you back here, safe, that once it happened, I wasn’t letting myself consider that it might not be over, for you. That you might not be alright.” 

“I’m fine.” Magnus’s voice was flat, cold.

“No, you aren’t,” Alec said quietly. “You’re hurting. And I know that I caused that. I’m sorry that I broke your heart. I’m sorry that you gave up so much for us, for me. I’m sorry that you had to spend so much time in Edom with your father.”

Magnus shot him a warning glance, but Alec powered through.

“I’m sorry that you’re still hurting, and, above all, I’m sorry that I don’t know how to help.”

Magnus stood frozen beside the martini cart, eyes on Alec. They weren’t black and lifeless; they weren’t over-bright and mocking. They were hurt, lost, frightened. Magnus’s eyes. Alec walked over to him slowly, reached out, and touched his hand. “Tell me what I can do to help. Please.”

Magnus took a half a step back, pulling his hand away like he’d been stung. “Go.” His voice was hoarse as he gestured toward the door. “Just- Just go.”

Alec hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll be back,” he said softly. “I promise, Magnus, I’ll come back.” He stepped toward the door, hoping that he’d made some sort of progress. He knew that Magnus may never forgive him, that they may never have back what they’d lost, but he hoped that he could at least help heal some of that pain in Magnus’s eyes. He stepped through the door and glanced over his shoulder, but Magnus was gone, the room empty.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys.
> 
> I want to thank you all for being so passionate and for interacting with this story. It's always interesting to read your opinions, and I love how outspoken y'all are.
> 
> Unfortunately, due to some personal reasons that are taking a massive toll on the amount of time I have available and my general ability to get anything done, I won't be interacting much in the comments for a little while. I've been trying to spin too many plates, and they're about to come crashing down. Please don't take it to mean that I don't appreciate you all. I do, more than you can possibly know. I will still be reading everything, even if I don't have the bandwidth to respond.
> 
> Thank you for your support and your understanding in advance. Take care of yourselves, and be safe.
> 
> **TW for blood, nothing graphic**

“You didn’t have to kill them all.” Lorelai was pouting on his sofa, laid out in a way Magnus was certain was meant to be seductive. She was beautiful. One of the youngest-looking warlocks he’d met in a long time. She was barely a century old, and had spent the entire time learning to tame demons. Her full bottom lip was pouted out, her lashes fluttering. It made Magnus feel vaguely sick. 

He rolled his eyes, flopping down into his chair. “I didn’t kill any of them. Well, one. But that one had it coming.” It had been on its way to murder Alec. He couldn’t have that. He told himself it was because it was important that Alec be there at the end, to understand. He’d hurt Magnus, and now he deserved to be hurt. But the thought of losing him had been horrific in ways he didn’t want to examine too closely. “The rest of them were merely vanished back to my father’s dimension. They’ll be at your beck and call again soon enough.” He shot her a look. “You have absolutely no sense of self-preservation, though. Your wards were comically thin, and the Institute already knew about you. You’ve been gathering an army for, what, a week?”

Lorelai laughed, the sound like broken glass tinkling onto a hardwood floor. “Oh, please, the Shadowhunters are idiots. They wouldn’t have found me without your help.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “They already knew where you were. I told them I had no idea what idiotic baby warlock was summoning an army of demons. It was their plan. I may have broken your wards, but they could have done that on their own. You were barely protected. I only took the job so that I could warn you.”

“Warn me and then let them destroy my pets, anyway. Besides, my wards killed one of their men.”

Magnus huffed. “One of your demons killed one of their men, and they didn’t have a warlock on hand to look him over. Your wards couldn’t have killed a fly. Stop complaining. You’re here with me instead of rotting in the Gard. Most of your pets are safely tucked away in Edom for when you need them next. You’re not bound by anything but the fealty you owe myself and my father, and you have free reign to do whatever experiments you like.” He spread his hands. “You’re as much a prisoner as I am, instead of being remanded into Clave custody and beating on the walls of your cell for the next century or so.”

Lorelai hummed, slipping her feet to the ground and climbing off of the couch. “You know,” she said as she walked toward him, hips swaying, “I’d always heard that you were a bit of a goody-two-shoes. Always on the Clave’s good side. Trying to uphold their stupid Accords.” She walked closer, reaching out and tracing a finger down Magnus’s cheek.

Magnus looked at her with black eyes, his skin ice cold. There was nothing friendly or indulgent in his expression. “Things change,” he said simply. “I was trying to be something that I’m not. That we aren’t. I’ve learned my lesson.” He reached up and clutched her wrist in a frozen, iron grip. “Let me make something perfectly clear, sweet pea. You’re not going to be my queen. I’m not looking for a partner. You owe me your loyalty, and that’s exactly what you’ll give.” She was making a soft sound in the back of her throat. The skin of her wrist was turning black from the cold. “Do you understand?”

She bowed her head, tugging at her arm, trying to get her hand back. “I understand. I won’t try anything like this again. Please, you’re hurting me.”

Magnus looked down at the damage he was causing. She’d nearly killed Alec. He let go, shaking his head and trying to push the thought away. She let out a quiet cry as she stumbled back from him. He waved an arm to indicate the hallway off to the left. “There are spare rooms. Feel free to do what you like. No more than three summoned demons at a time, and none of them leave the loft. I have a reputation to maintain.” He waved his hand again, dismissing her. “Maloch will visit you if you decide to break the rules.” 

She left, far less certain than she had when she’d come in. He looked down at his hands, cutting off the blue glow. Three dead Shadowhunters. He’d protected Alec. He’d protected Izzy and Jace as much as he could at a distance. But there were still three dead. He sighed quietly, closing his eyes. This was what was necessary to build his kingdom. He knew that. People always died in a war. But it was so easy to imagine what might have happened if Alec had tried to face off against that demon and lost. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the worn omamori charm. His heart ached as he looked at it, tracing his fingers over its sides. He almost wished he could go back. Have what he’d had, then. He’d been happy. And while ambition was filling some of that ache in his soul, power for the sake of power had never made him happy. He sighed, shaking his head. This was the choice he’d made. The choice Alexander had made. If he couldn’t be happy, he could at least be king.

The girl was beautiful. Her blonde hair fell down across her shoulders. Her white top sparkled, sequins reflecting the dim glow of Pandemonium’s lights. She’d been watching Magnus all night with dark brown eyes growing more and more glazed with each drink. She stumbled as she tried to jump along to a song, and Magnus was there, gently wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright.

“You!” she cried happily. “You’re like, the most myster- mysterious mister ever!”

He winced at the volume of her voice and the terrible pun, but slapped on a grin. “What a lovely compliment from a gorgeous girl,” he said easily.

She laughed, spilling her wells vodka soda all over his Italian leather boots. He pushed down his frustration. He knew it had very little to do with the spilled drink and everything to do with the situation. He had no desire to do this.

“You’ve got such pretty eyes,” the girl said seriously, her own wide and dilated, her body swaying slightly, off-beat with the music. “You wanna- wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Magnus said easily, holding out his arm like a proper gentleman, letting her loop hers through. He walked her out of the club and gestured for a cab, opening the door for her and slipping inside. He didn’t make a habit of using cabs, but he needed to keep up appearances a little longer. He could feel a flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach. He refused to acknowledge them. This was necessary, if unpleasant. 

His power was weakening, ever since the attack on Lorelai’s brownstone a week ago. The cold surrounding him had started to thaw. He’d thought he’d kept his connection to Edom strong enough that all of this unpleasantness wouldn’t be necessary. But his father had warned him, even before his return to earth. 

He paid the cabbie and stepped out of the car in front of his building, holding out his hand for the ridiculously drunk woman. She stumbled in her high-heeled boots, leaning against him. He forced a smile as he led her toward the loft.

Her mood didn’t change until they stepped into the apartment. A pentagram had been scratched into his floor in long grooves in front of his throne. To their right sat Lorelai, just outside of the circle. Mirroring her to the left was Maloch. They were both chanting in low voices in a language that sounded like hissing snakes. “Sit here, darling,” Magnus said as he led her to the edge of the pentagram.

“What is this?” She tried to pull her arm away from Magnus’s, but Magnus tightened his grip. He helped her to the floor. “I want to go home.”

Magnus shook his head, fighting to keep his expression neutral. “Just sit.” He waved a hand over the top of her head, and she sat. Her eyes slid closed, her breathing was soft and even. She was unconscious, held upright by the magic that kept her from being aware of her surroundings. Lorelai shot him a look, but he ignored her. This was his ritual, and he could perform it however he liked. He moved to the pentagram, sitting in the center and adding his voice to the din. He called to his father, and as he did, the pentagram burst to life. The blue flames were low to the ground, chilling the air around Magnus. He looked to the girl as he stopped chanting. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, her head lolling softly as she slept. He gathered blue power at his fingertips and swept his arm in a slashing motion in her direction.

She made no sound, but the inside of one of her arms began to bleed. The blood flowed down her hand, pooling in her lap. It dripped onto the floor, drawn like iron to a magnet into the pentagram. Everywhere the blood touched, the flames leapt higher and burned colder. Magnus closed his eyes. He could feel his father’s power. He could feel that electric connection to the energy of Edom. Instead of reaching for his power, it became an extension of himself, as natural as his own heartbeat. He breathed in and out steadily, the flames rising with each inhale, fading slightly with each exhale. With every breath, they grew higher. Magnus could feel the power of his home dimension. His father’s power. The girl’s blood was a sacrifice to Asmodeus, and he was being rewarded. 

He felt the power settle into place in his bones. Snowflakes drifted from his fingers. His heart seemed to freeze. He could feel the circlet heavy on his head. When he opened his eyes, they blazed with blue flames. The chanting stopped. Lorelai and Maloch fell forward, heads bowed. “The Prince on Earth,” they whispered as the pentagram abruptly went out.

Magnus gestured, and the entire apartment came to life. Candles burned, lights flickered, his stereo started playing, flipping rapidly through the radio stations. It took no effort. Magic that he’d had to reach for that morning was now bursting from his skin. He felt alive, aware. The world around him was brighter and more beautiful than he’d ever seen it. He took a deep, steadying breath, and the flames faded from his eyes, leaving only blackness behind. Lorelai was trembling. Maloch looked bored, now that the ritual was over, though he was avoiding eye contact. The girl on the outside of the pentagram slumped to the floor, unmoving. 

“Go,” Magnus said, gesturing toward the hallway. 

Lorelai and Maloch didn’t have to be told twice. Maloch slithered from the room without a backward glance. Lorelai hesitated at the entrance to the hallway, leaning against the wall. “Do you want me to get rid of the body?” she offered, voice quiet.

Magnus looked to her, expressionless, and saw her cower away. “I said go.” She didn’t hesitate, turning on her heel and practically running from the room. 

Magnus waited until they were gone to move out of the pentagram. The grooves in his floor were filled with blood. He looked to the girl and felt something twist in the pit of his stomach. She was so incredibly young. She hadn’t had any idea what she was in for. He hadn’t even learned her name. He knelt beside her, reaching to touch her wrist. Her pulse was slow against his fingers, erratic. He hesitated, glancing at the hallway to the guest rooms. No one was there. He held out his hand, blue sparks gathering at his fingertips. He gently touched the girl’s arm. The cut immediately healed. He poured energy into her until her heart was beating strong and steady. 

He gently lifted his hand to her face, brushing his fingertips against her temples. “It’s alright,” he said gently, “you won’t remember any of this in the morning.” He reached into her mind and carefully walled away the memories of himself. It wasn’t difficult. She’d wake up thinking she’d had too much to drink the night before. Other than a headache, a hangover, and some odd dreams, she’d be fine. Unurt. He knew his father wouldn’t approve. Blood sacrifices weren’t meant to walk away. But he’d made his sacrifice. His father had been satiated. There was no reason for the girl to give more than she could afford. 

When she was steady, he waved a hand and sent her home. The twisting in his gut eased, if only a little. “Nothing but a nightmare,” he said softly into the empty room. The words seemed to echo in the emptiness.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments on the last chapter, and for continuing on this ride with me. I know I'm a little late with this one again, but it can't really be helped at the moment.
> 
> I will be switching to a little more sporadic of an upload timeline. I should still be adding chapters on Mondays, but the second chapter will come up sometime between Thursday and Sunday, depending on work madness. I hope y'all can bear with me, everything's a little chaotic in my life right now.
> 
> Stay safe, and enjoy a little bit of bad-decision-making-Alec!

“Drinks?”

Alec looked up at his brother, brow furrowed. “What?”

“Drinks!” Jace said again, reaching out to pull the papers away from Alec that he’d been working on.

“Jace, this really isn’t the time-“

“It absolutely is the time.” He started shoving papers into files at random. Alec sighed, knowing that it would take him hours to sort out the mess, later. “You’ve been moping for ages, ever since Magnus came back. There hasn’t been a demon uprising in nearly a month, and you need a break. So. Drinks.”

Alec sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a hand over his face. Jace wasn’t wrong. There hadn’t been much demon activity at all, in the past month or so. Since the issue with Lorelai, really. There were rumors that something big was coming, but every lead they followed, they hit a dead end. The warlocks were happy with Magnus back in charge. The wolves were rebuilding their pack under Maia and seemed to be doing just fine. The vampires had even managed to find a clan leader that was willing to work with the Institute, though Alec hadn’t met her, yet. Everything was going remarkably well. But Alec couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Something in his gut felt off. Everything was too quiet, too peaceful.

Jace raised an eyebrow at him. “I know when you’re spiraling,” he said with a grin. “Come on. We can go out. I’ll be your wingman. You can go hit on some hot guy. Forget about Magnus for a little while.”

Alec’s heart hurt. He didn’t want to forget about Magnus. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. “I know he’s in there, Jace. He’s just-,” he broke off, looking at his brother.

“We’ve had this conversation dozens of times, Alec,” Jace’s voice was gentle, patient. “If he doesn’t want to be with you, you can’t force it. If he doesn’t want to talk to you, then maybe the best thing you can do is give him a little space. Sometimes, people put up walls. I mean, you saw what I put Clary through, when we broke up. For reasons outside of our control, admittedly.” 

Alec ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes. He knew he had to accept it. That didn’t mean he had to like it. He glared up at Jace. “One drink. And I’m not hitting on anyone. And I swear, Jace, if you show up with some guy you think is cute to try to set me up, I’m going to kill you. With an arrow. Straight through that thick skull.”

They hadn’t gone to the Hunter’s Moon. Jace had insisted they go somewhere ‘a little more dancey’ – whatever that meant. So, they were in Pandemonium. Sort of a terrible place to forget about Magnus, but Jace liked the drinks, and Alec wasn’t willing to put up too much of a fight. He was two beers in, still not feeling much like dancing, when Jace showed up with something that was very pink and very bubbly. Alec stared at him.

“Come on, try it!”

“I think you might be insulting me with that one.”

Jace just grinned, looking a little wild. He’d clearly had a few more drinks than Alec. “Come on, Alec, just try it. It’s practically a shot.” He pressed it into Alec’s hands. “Drink it and come dance with me.”

On any other night, Alec would have said no. He knew what it probably was. Some watered-down version of a faerie drink. But he was heartbroken and exhausted and, despite his objections, he really needed a break. Glaring at Jace the whole time, he took the shot. 

It hit him in an instant. Suddenly the world was bright and colorful and warm. So warm. His head lolled on his neck, and Jace grabbed him by the hand, leading him to the dance floor. He’d never been a particularly good dancer, but it didn’t matter. The music pounded in his ears, people jumping and grinding and swaying all around him. If he hadn’t been high as a kite, he would have felt ridiculous. As it was, he felt connected to everything and everyone around him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this was what it was like for Magnus. It felt magical.

After a few songs, he lost Jace in the crowd as he disappeared with some girl. Alec was dancing with a guy with lilac hair, then a guy with bright green horns curling back from his forehead, then a girl who could’ve been a mundane, a bright, bubbly blonde. The room was spinning. He was warm. Then too warm. Then hot. He mumbled something to whoever he was dancing with, a guy a good four inches taller than him, and stumbled out of the club. People grabbed at him, brushed against him, as he made his way through the crowd. He stopped outside the doors to take a deep breath. The smell of the city was invigorating. It was raining. He felt like he could watch every raindrop on the way down. The water soaked his hair and his clothes as he started wandering toward a familiar apartment. The world was full of magic, and the one person he wanted to share it with wasn’t far away.

“Magnus!” He knocked on the door again, swaying on his feet. He was soaked down to his skin, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He reached up to push it back and nearly knocked himself over. “Magnus! Let me in! Wanna talk to you!” He reached for the doorknob. To his surprise, it turned.

He wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside. The apartment smelled like garbage. Like demons. He spotted a familiar face, the warlock girl from the raid, draped across the sofa, laughing at something. She wasn’t the only one. A group of warlocks, all dressed in black, were lounging over Magnus’s furniture. One of them tossed back a shot of something dark and dangerous-looking, a steaming, purple liquid. There was a demon hovering in the corner, an ugly thing with leathery skin and scrawny wings. Music was pounding through the space. Alec almost felt like he was back in Pandemonium, but there was something sinister about the space, the sound. The bass pounded in time with Alec’s heartbeat. A young man with a forked tail curling over his shoulder was crouching beside a chair, a throne of black stone and bone. And there, in the middle of it all, was Magnus. His black eyes gazed around the room. He alone didn’t look drunk. He was carefully watching the people around him. Some were swaying to the music, some sitting around chatting. Alec spotted vampires drinking blood from champagne flutes, a faerie with dark hair dancing, wearing nothing but glitter on the balcony. It was exactly the sort of party he’d always known Magnus could throw. But Magnus didn’t look happy. He sat in his throne, some sort of crown on his head, a stony expression on his face. He was dressed in all black. Alec stumbled further into the room, avoiding a groping hand from something he was pretty sure wasn’t human. “Magnus.”

Magnus’s eyes snapped to his. Shock. Recognition. For just a moment, Alec could’ve sworn he saw worry. And then Magnus was standing in front of him. 

Alec reeled back, surprised by the sudden closeness. “You’re so fast,” Alec mumbled. “So fast and so pretty and so amazing.” He grinned dopily at Magnus. “Miss you so much.” He wrapped his arms around Magnus’s shoulders, leaving rain-damp spots anywhere he touched. “Wanna dance with me?” The bass was still pounding, though the treble sounded more like a shrieking animal than any instrument Alec had ever heard. “Your music sucks.”

Magnus’s lips pursed, and they were moving through the crowd, through a door, into the familiar bedroom. The door closed, dimming the sounds from the party. Alec looked around, taking in the differences. He hadn’t been here in forever. He swayed on his feet, leaning down to lay his head on Magnus’s shoulder with a soft sigh.

Magnus stepped away and Alec nearly fell forward. He caught himself, hands splayed wide to help with his balance. He looked to Magnus and frowned, wondering why his hands were shaking. Maybe the rainwater was colder than Alec could feel. “Alexander,” Magnus said quietly, “what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” Alec grinned at him. “Miss you.” He bit his lip. “Worried about you.” Magnus closed his eyes like the words had hurt him somehow, and Alec felt a twist in his stomach. “I do. I miss you. I didn’t wanna- but I had to get you back. Only now, you’re back, and you’re so-,” he reached out, but Magnus flinched away from him. Alec’s hand fell back to his side. “You’re so sad all the time.”

“You’re high.” Magnus’s voice was cold, but Alec felt like he was on fire. He could be warm enough for the both of them.

“Maybe.” Alec’s brow furrowed, but he knew Magnus wasn’t wrong. The room was spinning, and he could feel individual raindrops dripping from his hair and sliding over his skin. They felt incredible. Still, his brow furrowed as he tried to focus. “Mags, was that a- was there a demon in your living room?”

Magnus looked at him, expression suddenly defiant. “So what if it was?”

Alec swayed, off-balance. There was something important about Magnus having a demon in his living room, but he couldn’t place it. He’d know in the morning. He glanced to the bed, wanting nothing more than to fall into it and sleep beside Magnus again. He missed it so much that it made his heart ache. 

Magnus shook his head. “You don’t get to do this to me. You don’t get to abandon me and then show up a year later, claiming to be worried about me. You don’t get to say you miss me. You left me when I had nothing,” Magnus’s voice broke on the word. “You never cared about me. You just wanted a pet warlock to do the Clave’s bidding.”

Alec swallowed hard, his chest aching. He looked up at Magnus, expression open, broken. He lifted his hands to Magnus’s face, cupping his jaw. “Not true. I’ve always cared about you. I never would’ve left you if it weren’t for your f-,” something cut him off. Magnus’s hands had locked around his wrists. They felt like manacles of cold iron as he pulled Alec’s hands away from his face. Alec had never been good with words. He must have picked the wrong ones. “Let me show you, Magnus. Please, just let me-” He reached out again as soon as Magnus let go of his hands, but hit a solid, invisible wall of ice between himself and Magnus. He couldn’t move past it. He was shivering all the way down to his bones. At least he didn’t feel overheated anymore. The cold helped clear his mind. He looked to Magnus, but his expression was shuttered. Alec felt his stomach drop, knowing he’d done something he shouldn’t have, even if his high mind wasn’t capable of understanding what it was. “Magnus, please.”

“Go home, Alexander.” There was a rush of wind, a portal forming behind Alec. “Go sleep this off.” 

“But magnus, I-“

Magnus waved, and Alec felt a force gently push him backwards. There was a rush of wind and motion that was almost enough to make him sick, and then he was in his bed in the Institute, and the world was fading. _Go sleep this off._ “Okay, Magnus,” he mumbled into his pillow. “Love you.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the love and comments on the last chapter. I'm glad that y'all enjoyed drunk/high Alec as much as I enjoyed writing him. Today's update is short, but we've got some longer chapters coming in the next few updates.
> 
> Stay safe! Y'all are amazing!
> 
> **PS: TW for Asmodeus being a manipulative bastard <\b>**

Magnus sat on his throne and listened. He could hear things moving around in Lorelai’s room. He could hear Maloch screeching from his corner of the apartment. Maybe he was dying. There was a happy thought. More likely, he was singing. He had a tendency to do that, when he was in a particularly good mood. Magnus pulled the omamori charm out of his pocket. I never would’ve left you if it weren’t for your f- The words echoed through his mind. There were only so many ways that sentence could end. He ran his fingers over the faded edges of the charm. What if something had happened? What if there was a reason for the breakup beyond Alec being cruel? Was he doing this all for nothing? His stomach twisted at the thought. He’d gone so far, put so much effort in. He was more powerful than he’d ever been. What if he’d done it all for nothing?

“Magnus.” 

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his father’s voice. He shoved the charm quickly into his pocket as he turned around, facing the window that had become a viewing glass, a way to look into his father’s kingdom. “Think of the devil,” Magnus said a little too eagerly. He took a moment to calm himself down. “May I ask why you’re calling?”

Asmodeus grinned. “I’m sending you gifts, my son. Support for your war.”

Magnus swallowed hard. He didn’t know that he wanted a war. All that bitterness he’d dragged up in Edom, it was harder to hold onto, here. Izzy had been hurt. Alec had nearly been killed. His drunken visit certainly hadn’t helped things. I never would’ve left you if it weren’t for your f- Magnus shook his head. “I-… Thank you, but I don’t think that’s strictly necessary.”

Asmodeus’s eyes darkened, and Magnus felt a pressure against his chest. He couldn’t move. He was frozen to his seat. His eyes went wide as he tried to force in a breath. “Magnus, you did not leave my realm so that you could be weak again.” Magnus swallowed hard, eyes going wide, and the world tipped sideways. He tried to lift his arms to brace himself as he fell out of the chair toward the portal. He fell straight through, collapsing onto the plains of Edom as gravity shifted beneath him again. 

Asmodeus held out a hand, and Magnus was pinned to the ground, unable to so much as lift a finger. “My son, my poor, idiot son,” he drawled. “Do you remember what was done to you?” 

Magnus nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course I-“ 

Asmodeus made a gesture and Magnus’s eyes slammed closed, his mind falling back into the first moments without his magic, agony in every inch of his body. He watched, helpless, as Madzie was kidnapped, reaching out to stop it and unable to do a thing. He watched his hands shake as he tried to apply pressure to the wound, that arrow wound threatening to take Alec away from him. He staggered, drunk, into a dinner that was meant to be a celebration, feeling a hollow ache in his chest at just how spectacularly useless he was. He stood in Maryse’s bookshop, begging Alec to stay, his heart ripping in two in his chest.

He collapsed, panting against the ground. There were frozen tears on his face. His entire body ached, and he knew some of the pain had been physical, as well as emotional. He stared up at the images his father was floating before his eyes. Every moment of his relationship with Alec. 

“All lies,” Asmodeus said softly. “Think of everything you did for him, Magnus. Every favor. Every time you exhausted yourself. The things you gave up, not just for him, but for his pathetic excuse for a family. You didn’t even give me your magic to save him, but his brother.” 

The image came to mind, unbidden. Tell me that Jace isn’t worth it. Magnus had never had a doubt of what Alec’s answer would be. If he had died, it would have been worth it to Alec, just to have Jace back.

“He loved his parabatai more than you. Don’t you remember, son?”

Asmodeus raised his hand and Magnus could feel it all over again, that wrenching, searing pain as his magic was carved out of him. “No!” He tried to hold onto it, but his father was too strong. Magnus felt it flow out of him. Color drained from the world. Even in Edom, he couldn’t feel his connection to the world around him, his purpose, his strength. He panted, weak and useless on the ground. 

“This is how he wanted you,” Asmodeus said quietly, “and then he abandoned you for your sacrifice. But I- I have loved you since you were a child.” 

The images were replaced by those of his father. Picking him up out of the gutter when he was seven years old. Bringing him home to Edom. Teaching him how to use his abilities. Telling him that he was special, that he was better than all his siblings. Showing him how much joy could be had from taking what he wanted and never asking questions. Granting his magic after Alec had left him with nothing. Magnus felt the magic flowing back into him and sobbed with relief. 

“What he took, I return,” Asmodeus said softly.

Magnus let the power fill him to the brim, his hands glowing an icy blue, his eyes gold and slit-pupiled again. He needed his magic. More than he needed anything.

“When you doubt your purpose, Magnus, I want you to remember what he did to you. And what I gave to you. A mortal man laid you low. Your father returned you to your rightful power.”

Magnus nodded, shaking. He wrapped his arms around himself, able to move again, but there was no warmth to be had. 

Asmodeus crouched beside him, gently brushing Magnus’s hair back from his forehead. “My boy. My poor, broken boy. I will never let anyone hurt you like that again.”

Magnus looked up and nodded. When Asmodeus lifted him from the ground into a gentle embrace, Magnus went willingly. “I know you won't.”

Asmodeus smiled. “Now, let’s get you home to your new gifts.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for vanishing, everyone. I had some personal stuff come up that pulled me away from pretty much all of my hobbies, writing and posting included. But as a reward for being INSANELY patient, I'm going to finish this thing today.
> 
> Chapters will be posted one after the other, so please don't be confused by the massive update.
> 
> Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your support. Please stay safe.

Alec stood in front of the screens of the ops center, watching the glowing lines that represented patrol routes. He’d sent out the same number of Shadowhunters he did every night, despite their protests that there hadn’t been any major demonic activity in weeks. Shadowhunters were soldiers. They would do their jobs. But something was niggling at him, something that had been festering in the back of his mind since he’d woken up in his own bed, hungover from some kind of Faerie drink. 

“You look worried,” Andrew Underhill said, appearing at his side. “Any particular reason?”

Alec continued to stare. “Do you ever get the feeling that something bad is about to happen?”

Andrew shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“But not now.”

Andrew shook his head. “Everything seems normal to me, sir. We’ve sent out the normal patrols. Everything’s been quiet.”

Alec hummed. Quiet wasn’t always a good thing. 

“I can wait for the patrols to call in, sir, if you’d like to take a break and head to your office.” 

Alec shook his head, though he managed a smile for Underhill’s benefit. “I want to be here. Just in case.” Andrew nodded and stepped back to his screens. Alec waited, eyes flicking between the routes on the screen and the clock. They should be calling in two minutes.

One minute.

Now.

There was a brief silence, and all hell broke loose. 

The alarms blared, red lights flashing through the room. Shadowhunters ran into the ops center, weapons at the ready. Alec reached for his bow over his shoulder before remembering that he didn’t have it anymore. “Where’s the incursion?” he snapped. “How’d they get through the wards?” 

There was a shift in the air, like a sudden change in altitude. Alec felt his ears pop as the lighting in the room changed from red to blue, a cool breeze blowing through the air.

“The wards are down!”

Alec froze. The wards couldn’t be down. This was the Institute. It was the most heavily warded and heavily guarded place in New York. He shook his head. “Even if the warlock wards are down, the Shadowhunter runes are still up and running.”

He glanced to the Shadowhunter who had shouted. “What the hell is going on, Underhill? Answer me.”

Underhill made a gesture, and the screen to Alec’s left lit up with one of the views from the CCTV cameras outside. Alec’s blood ran cold. Demons. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. Crawling, scuttling, flying through the air. And at the center of it all, a familiar shock of black hair. The CCTV footage cut out as the power did, and they were in the dark.

“Witchlight,” Alec snapped, and half a dozen ward stones lit around the room. “Get your weapons, get ready to fight. Head to the entrances. Someone get the power back up so we can see what the hell is going on. Nightvision runes, in case that doesn’t work. Come on, Shadowhunters, move!”

Alec grabbed a spare bow and quiver from the weapons cabinet, along with a couple of seraph blades. He headed toward the front as the doors blew open, flying off their hinges with an icy blast. Alec watched, stomach twisting with despair, as the ward runes on the building started to burn with blue flames. That shouldn’t be possible. The Shadowhunter wards turned to ash. He swallowed hard, nocking an arrow as seraph blades lit up all around him. 

There was a moment of silence, of hesitation on both sides. Alec stared into the six eyes of a waiting demon as it stared at him. The room held its breath. And then the demons attacked. 

Alec let fly arrow after arrow, downing demons in the doorway as quickly as he could nock, draw, and loose. As each one faded from resistance, back to its own reality, another took its place. He was the only archer. There was no way to stem the tide with arrows alone. Demons poured into the room, and the real battle began. Cries, grunts, inhuman screeches and very human cussing filled the air. Something acidic splattered from a demon to his left, and Alec was covered in bile. He wasn’t dressed in gear. Almost no one was. He shrugged out of his jacket quickly, and in the chaos, lost his bow. He grabbed a seraph blade and jumped out of the way of a demon with a barbed tail like a mace. He stabbed his blade into a giant ball of slime, a type of demon he’d never seen before. The slime coated his fingers, and they went completely numb. He cursed, but didn’t have time to pull out his stele as he whirled to block another demon’s teeth with his blade. 

In the dim light spilling through the doors, he noticed that the flood of demons was thinning. He squinted at the door in time to see Lorelai walk into the building, hands trailing yellow sparks as she let her head fall back, cackling. The frenzied sound echoed off the walls. Bizarrely, Alec felt relief when she stepped into the Institute. He’d thought he’d seen-

And then he saw him, blue magic blazing at his fingertips as he stepped through the door. Magnus was dressed in plan, black leather. He looked almost like a Shadowhunter on patrol. His eyes were reflective green in the darkness, and his entire body seemed to glow with a deep blue light. As he passed, runes caught on fire, bright blue flames that turned them to ash. “Magnus!”

Magnus raised a hand, and blue energy flew through the air, slamming a Shadowhunter into the wall and knocking him unconscious. Even now, when it was obvious that Magnus was responsible, Alec couldn’t believe it. Magnus was a good person. He wouldn’t attack the Institute. He was the one who had warded it in the first place. For a moment, Alec thought he caught his eye. 

A pulse of magic flew toward him, and Alec ducked. It passed over his head, and Alec looked to see a demon collapsing in on itself. It had been dropping from the ceiling, right on top of him. Alec’s eyes snapped back to Magnus. The magic had been a signal. The demons stopped attacking, each bowing its head (or closest head-like appendage) in Magus’s direction. The Shadowhunters paused, exhausted even from the brief scuffle, bleeding and burned. Every eye in the room, demon and Shadowhunter alike, turned to Magnus Bane.

“Take the prisoners to the cells,” Magnus snapped to the demons. 

Alec looked around. Shadowhunters stood around him, bleeding and broken. Some were unconscious. He hoped they were unconscious. No one was untouched. Alec’s left arm was numb to the elbow from the demon slime. His side ached. When he looked down, he saw he was bleeding from a cut he couldn’t remember receiving. Acid had eaten through the leg of his pants, burning his thigh. He was one of the lucky ones. “We aren’t your prisoners,” Alec said, his voice shockingly calm. They were outnumbered. They were hurt. But they weren’t dead, yet. 

Magnus gestured without looking to him, and the handle of the seraph blade glowed white hot in his hand. He let go with a shout, the weapon leaving his hand red and burned. He wasn’t the only one. He heard weapons dropping around the room. 

“As I said, take the prisoners to the cells.” Magnus passed Alec, eyes ahead, the circlet shining on his forehead. “And bring me the Head of the Institute.”


	24. Chapter 24

The stench of Sulphur and blood filled the hallway. Magnus had lost many of his demons. Lorelai had lost one of her favorite pets. Even so, the battle had been a success. The Nephilim were unprepared for someone who could tear through their wards like tissue paper. Magnus thought he’d feel victorious. All he felt was empty. He stepped past Lorelai after giving his command. She followed as the demons began to round up the Shadowhunters. 

“We should kill them.” Lorelai’s voice was a hiss in his ear. “They murdered our demons. They’re Nephilim. Any one of them left alive is a threat.”

Magnus turned to her and saw her flinch, unable to make eye contact. “Are you doubting me?” His voice was soft, cool. He sounded like his father.

“No.” Lorelai dropped her head. “No, of course not. I just don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to understand.” Magnus began walking toward the ops center. “Let them have their Iratzes, if they’re dying. Then take their steles. Search them for weapons. My spell should have eliminated them all, but we need to be careful.”

Lorelai looked at him incredulously. “You want me to let them heal themselves.”

Magnus nodded. “We’ve taken an Institute. It’s a good first step, but we want independence. Every living Shadowhunter is a bargaining chip. Shadowhunters would do just about anything to save their families, their parabatai. Now, go.” He waved her off. He would let them be healed. But only because they were pieces on a board. Leverage. He closed his eyes and pushed the image of bleeding Shadowhunters from his mind. Jace and Izzy had been on patrol. He knew Alec had survived. They were safe. Not that he cared.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stepped into Alec’s familiar office.

It wasn’t long before Alec was led through the door, Maloch’s claws digging into his bicep as he forced him into the room. 

“So that’s why he was bowing to you when you returned from Edom.” Alec was speaking in the perfectly controlled way that indicated indescribable rage. Magnus didn’t flinch. “Because you were planning this.” 

Magnus waved his arm, and Maloch was gone, banished to the hallway. He gestured again, and Alec was forced into a chair, held in place with invisible restraints. “His name is Maloch. He was my lieutenant in Edom. Annoying. Stinky. Terrible roommate. But he’s an effective soldier.”

Alec’s jaw was set, a muscle in it twitching. “Why?”

“I’d imagine it has something to do with having two mouths, and twice as many sets of teeth as other demons.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Magnus faced Alec head on. His eyes were black, his expression carefully masked. It only cracked when he spotted Alec’s arm. From the elbow down, his skin had turned to a mottled black. “You’ve been poisoned.”

Alec nodded. “That’s what happens when you let demons loose in the Institute. People get hurt. People die.”

Magnus’s eyes shot to Alec’s for a moment. “Are any of your people dead?” He stepped forward, examining Alec’s arm without touching. He waved his hand and blue sparks danced along Alec’s skin, pulling the poison out of his veins slowly. Healing magic was no longer his forte. There was no need for it, in Edom.

“Hard to tell. I wasn’t allowed into the cells with the others.” Alec’s hands flexed against the arms of his chair as they faded toward their normal, pale color. “Why are you doing this?” he repeated. “You break down our wards, take the Institute, and then sit here and heal me? Why?”

Magnus had his reasons. The knife that still twisted in his heart every time he looked at Alec. The betrayals of the Clave over the hundreds of years he’d been alive. The weight of his father’s expectations, the only person who’d ever loved him, sitting heavily on his shoulders. He set his jaw, made his face completely expressionless, and turned away. “You’re not in any position to ask questions, Shadowhunter.” He waved his hand and the wall behind Alec’s desk became a viewing glass. 

“My son,” Magnus couldn’t help his shiver at the sound of his father’s voice, “is it finished? Do we have control of the New York Institute?”

Magnus felt the circlet heavy on his head as he inclined his head. “It is done.”  


The feeling was back in everything but the tips of Alec’s fingers. As he watched, his skin lightened from the dead black it had been a moment ago to light pink. He closed his fingers into a fist and released them. Back to normal. Well, almost normal. Usually, Magnus’s healing magic was warm, soothing. Now, it was cold. It made him feel like he had ice running through his veins. He looked up at Magnus, wondering how this had happened. 

Alec’s blood ran cold at the sight of Asmodeus on his wall. Worse was the way he was speaking to Magnus. Familiar. Warm. Alec’s stomach twisted. Asmodeus was manipulating Magnus for his own ends. It was obvious. So why couldn’t he see it? 

“I knew you were different,” Alec said. Magnus was ignoring him, sitting back in Alec’s chair, feet on the desk, now that Asmodeus was gone. “When you came back, I knew. Everything about you felt off.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “I’m a demon, Alexander, what were you expecting? Warm and fuzzy?”

“You’re not a demon. You’re a warlock. You have a soul. You care about people.” He tilted his head, realization slowly dawning. “Which is why you picked tonight.”

Magnus froze, saying nothing. Alec could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was listening. 

“You picked tonight because Jace and Izzy are out on patrol. I never send them out together, but I did today, trying to get Izzy to keep him from running after Clary. Simon’s not here. None of the Downworlders who know you are. You couldn’t unleash a bunch of demons on your friends. Just me.”

Magnus shot him a look. “I hardly unleashed a horde of demons at you, Alec. This is about the Institute. It’s about my birthright.”

Alec tried to keep from grinding his teeth. “Your birthright from Asmodeus? He’s manipulating you, Magnus.”

“He’s family.” Magnus’s eyes were cold, his voice distant. “The only family I have.”

“He’s using you!” Alec shook his head. “You have to see that. You’re centuries old and one of the smartest men I know. You can’t actually believe that Asmodeus wants what’s best for you. He’s having you challenge the Clave to benefit him. Without Shadowhunters, someone will raise him, and this place will become just like Edom.”

“I’ll raise him,” Magnus said simply. “I can at any point. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been. And why wouldn’t I want him here? He’s my father. He came to me when no one else did. He’s all I have.”

“That’s not true,” Alec said firmly. “You have Izzy and Jace and my mom. You have-,” he cut himself off, closing his eyes. “I never thought he’d come to you. I thought you’d have your magic back, and you’d be happy.”

Magnus frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Alec looked to Magnus, meeting his eyes. He may lose his magic for knowing, but Alec had to tell the truth. “I made a deal with your father.” At Magnus’s blank look, he shifted in his seat, though the restraints didn’t allow him much latitude. “You were miserable. Broken. That night, at dinner, I knew that you would never be happy without your magic.”

Magnus’s eyes were cold. “The spark inside of me went out. That’s what you said.”

Alec shook his head. “I lied. I- The next day, I found a warlock who could channel your father. I asked for your magic back. He offered me a deal. I took it. In exchange for your magic, I had to leave you. End our relationship. Stay away from you. Tell you nothing. That was the deal. And I-… You’d given up so much to keep me whole. I knew you would be okay. You’ve loved and lost before. I- I had to do it, Magnus.”

Magnus was very still, his breathing even, but shallow. Alec could see the doubt across his face. “I didn’t know he would come for you. I didn’t know that he would drag you back to Edom because of us. You went missing and I searched for you every day. I couldn’t find you. I didn’t know.”

Magnus’s eyes were locked on Alec’s desk, like he couldn’t bare to look at him. He looked paler than Alec had ever seen him. His black eyes drained of some of their color. “You made a deal with my father. Our relationship for my magic. That’s why you were so unlike yourself the day you broke my heart.”

Alec winced. “He’s the reason I left. You needed your magic. I couldn’t find another way.” 

Magnus stood slowly. Alec could feel magic in the room, a pressure against his skin. “Magnus?”

Magnus snapped. Alec and his chair were thrown backward, against the wall. Alec grunted at the impact, head thrown back. By the time he could look into the office again, Magnus was gone.


	25. Chapter 25

Magnus couldn’t breathe. He was out of the Institute before Alec could recover. He had an obligation to stay at the Institute, to protect the demons from the Shadowhunters and the Shadowhunters from the demons. But he couldn’t breathe.

Everything his father had told him was a lie. Alec had never been good at deceit. But his father was the king of lies. And the timing fit. His father had arrived the day after Alec had broken his heart. He’d given his magic back with no price, because the price had already been paid. Everything he’d said, everything he’d done, it had all been one giant manipulation designed to put Magnus exactly where he wanted him.

Magnus felt nausous. He looked up and realized that he must have taken a portal. He was on a random street near the Brooklyn bridge. His hands were dark blue, ice clinging to the tips. His magic. Demonic magic. The magic his father so desperately wanted him to use, to pull from Edom at any cost. He let out a cry of frustration as he swirled his hands through the air. The pentagram formed around him, and then it was burning, hellfire raging. He didn’t feel a thing.

He stood on the hill outside of his father’s keep. He was shaking, though he couldn’t tell if it was fury or fear. He gestured, and the doors flew open, hitting the stone walls of the keep hard enough for them to shatter. As he stepped into the throne room, the books flew from the shelves, landing haphazardly on the floor. The candles burned brighter, their flames jetting up in the darkness, turning from orange to cool blue. 

Asmodeus looked up, and for the first time in Magnus’s long life, he saw surprise in those golden cat eyes. He stood slowly, crown at a jaunty angle as he walked down the steps from his throne. “Son. I wasn’t expecting you here.”

Magnus stood, ice drifting down from his fingertips as he stared at his father. “You did this.”

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow. “I did what?” he asked. “The books? Afraid that was your destruction, my boy.”

Magnus shook his head, and one of the bookshelves fell over with a crash that reverberated through the room. “You are the reason Alec left me. You are the reason I was trapped here for a year. Everything comes back to you.”

Asmodeus hummed quietly. “I did what was best for you, Magnus.”

“He loved me. And you turned me into a weapon against him.”

“I made you strong.” Asmodeus walked toward him, unconcerned by the destruction of his throne room. “I fashioned you into the warlock you were always meant to be. He would have left you, eventually. They always leave. That’s what mortals do, my son, they die. I spared you the pain of losing him after decades. I showed you your potential. Look at you.”

Magnus looked down. His hands were glowing a steady, dark blue. Ice was spreading from his feet across the uneven stone floor. He felt complete in a way he never had, in Brooklyn. Some small part of him agreed with his father. Some part of him wanted this power. It felt good, to not have to care, to simply take what he wanted. 

“Yes, I made him leave you, but only to spare you the pain that you would feel, one day. Only to free you from the shackles you’d fashioned around yourself, your power.” Asmodeus reached out and cupped Magnus’s cheek. “I did it out of love, Magnus. I have only ever wanted the best for you.”

Magnus swallowed hard, eyes closed. His father had been there for him when he was young and needed somewhere to go. His father had brought him home, had made him powerful, had taught him what it was to feel like a king.

But Alec had taught him what it was to be loved without a price. Alec had held him when he’d been broken. Alec had given him a life full of family, laughter. The hole in his heart that Alec had left behind couldn’t be filled with power, no matter how much he gained. Magnus looked up, cat eyes glowing in the dim room. “I love you, too,” he said quietly. 

He reached out, and ropes formed between his hands. He wrapped them around his father’s arms, pinning them to his sides, keeping him from using his magic. He forced his father to his knees as the rope curled around his throat. The crown fell from his head, hitting the ground with a sharp crack like a gunshot.

Asmodeus looked up at him with a startled sort of betrayal. “You can’t kill me. I am your father. I am a Greater Demon.”

Magnus shook his head. “I can’t kill you.” He wasn’t sure which reason was true, or if he wanted to know. “And trapping you here won’t keep you from reaching out to me again.” He tightened the ropes, and Asmodeus began to choke. His heart twisted in his chest as a portal opened behind his father. “But there are other ways to trap you.”

Asmodeus could barely breathe, his eyes wide with what could only be fear. “Magnus,” he panted, “son.”

Portals were dangerous things. Without a destination in mind, one could be lost in limbo forever. An unconscious person couldn’t focus. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I have no choice.” He pulled the ropes tighter. As Asmodeus lost consciousness, he threw out his hand. Asmodeus’s limp body fell through the portal and it closed. “Goodbye, father.”


	26. Chapter 26

The room was empty. Alec was alone. He glanced around, but there was no one else. Unless Magnus had guards that were invisible (possible, given the number of demons in the Institute), then Alec was alone. He struggled against the bonds holding him to the chair. They were weak, far weaker than they’d been with Magnus in the room. After a moment’s concentration, he was free.

He pushed himself out of the chair and moved to his desk as quietly as possible. There was a seraph blade in the bottom drawer. He pulled it out and headed for the door, cracking it open. The demon Maloch was standing outside, grumbling to itself.

“Utterly ridiculous, popping me in and out of reality like that,” it muttered as it paced across the hall. Alec didn’t have much time. “… going to tell his father, not that it will do any good. Only a half-breed, anyway. Why not choose a successor that actually wants it?” 

Alec slipped through the door, wishing he had his stele for a soundless rune. He crept up behind the demon. At the last moment, it froze, as though listening, and then turned so fast that Alec barely caught the movement. It was too late. Alec’s hand flashed out, and the demon’s head bounced to the ground, ichor spraying from the stub of its neck. He stepped back as the demon folded in on itself, turning toward the cells. 

Most demons weren’t exactly intelligent. When he was on patrol, he could easily take down a dozen demons on his own. They tended to hunt alone, they weren’t great at keeping set on a particular task, and they were never organized. 

This was different.

There were demons patrolling the hallways, searching for Shadowhunters who may not have been in the battle. They hissed and growled and slithered through the halls at semi-regular intervals. Some of them were even armed. This wasn’t a loose knot of lesser demons. These were warriors. Demons who fought battles in Hell. Alec worked his way slowly down toward the cells, creeping down the stairs. He slipped out as quietly as he could, cursing the fact that he hadn’t had the chance to find a stele as he hid himself in the shadows of the hall. 

“Yes, well, his royal pain in the ass has decided that they can heal themselves.” Lorelai was standing in front of the glass-walled cell where several Shadowhunters were being kept, speaking to a demon that looked mostly like a lizard, if you could ignore the massive, furry tail. 

Alec couldn’t understand the demon’s response. Whatever language he was speaking sounded sharp and crackly, like flames. 

“I don’t care. If they’d rather die, I’m not going to cry any tears over them.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to the cell. “But I’m not going to piss off Magnus. That ice magic of his is awful.”

Alec took a deep breath. The demon and the warlock didn’t look like they were going anywhere. Alec was injured. He only had one weapon. None of the Shadowhunters could help him. Still, he had to try. He straightened his shoulders and forced himself to focus, looking back to the tableau before him.

He froze.

Izzy was standing over the demon, her whip wrapped around one of its forelegs, her seraph blade held high in her other hand. Jace was deflecting magic from the warlock, trying to push close enough to restrain her. Alec had no idea where they’d come from, and he didn’t care. He ran toward them, throwing the seraph blade with every bit of skill he possessed. It sheared off the demon’s arm that had been striking at his sister. Weaponless, he leapt at the warlock, trying to grab one of her hands.

“About time you decided to help us out,” Jace panted as he tossed him a knife.

Alec grabbed it out of the air. “I though you two were on patrol.”

“Parabatai,” Jace said with a look that let Alec know he was being an idiot. 

Lorelai had summoned weapons made of pure, yellow energy. She slung one of them at Alec’s face and he parried with his borrowed blade, grunting with effort. 

“I thought you were with Magnus,” Lorelai grunted, gesturing her hand at Jace. He yelped and dropped the blade he was holding, the handle glowing red-hot.

Alec swiped at Lorelai again, though she blocked him. “Guess he had something pressing to do. He ran off in a hurry.”

“Magnus?” Jace threw a small knife with deadly aim. Lorelai gestured, and it flew wide, planting itself into the wall beside her head. 

“His idea, he should be the one having to fight off you people,” Lorelai snapped. She reached back to hurl something bright at Jace and stopped, her wrist caught in a bright silver whip.

“You should really pay more attention when you’re fighting.” Izzy was bleeding from a cut on her bicep, but otherwise unharmed. The demon was nothing more than a steaming puddle of ichor at her feet. 

It was all the opening Alec needed. He grabbed for Lorelai’s free wrist when she was distracted, twisting it behind her back. The wrist in Izzy’s whip followed, and Lorelia could no longer perform magic. She screamed, Alec wincing at the volume as she started cursing in some language he didn’t understand.

Alec looked up at Jace. “Get to the Shadowhunters in the cells. Get anyone who can fight on their feet. We need to take back the Institute.” He cut his eyes to Izzy. “Find a pair of cuffs for Lorelai. We can’t let her do magic, she’s too good at summoning demons. We’re already going to have to fight dozens of the things. We don’t need her calling reinforcements.”

Just as Izzy and Jace broke off to their tasks, the lights died, plunging them into darkness. A pentagram started to burn in the floor with a piercing, blue light.

Magnus rose from the summoning circle slowly, his hands pulsing with blue light. Izzy stood ready with her whip, confused and wary, looking between Magnus and Alec. Jace grabbed a seraph blade from the floor, twisting it in his hand, ready to attack. Alec watched Magnus warily, twisting Lorelai’s arms behind her back. Magnus closed his eyes and raised his hands. The pentagram extinguished itself. They were left in the dim glow of witchlight. 

“Alec?” Izzy’s voice was uncertain, but steady. She shifted her grip on her whip. “What do we do, here?”

Magnus looked to Alec, his glamour up, his expression blank.

“Do what I said,” Alec said quietly. “Get cuffs. Get the Shadowhunters out. We’re going to need reinforcements.” Neither Izzy nor Jace moved. “Go.” Alec’s voice left no room for argument. Izzy moved one way, Jace the other, both avoiding Magnus.

Magnus looked to Alec when they were gone, and made a complicated little gesture. Alec didn’t move to defend himself. A pair of cuffs wound around Lorelai’s hands and she sank to the ground. “Sedated,” Magnus said quietly.

Alec watched Magnus as he took a half step back from Lorelai, bending to pick up a seraph blade. Magnus held out his hands. The ground beneath Alec shook, as blue power spread from Magnus’s feet.

“What are you doing?” Alec asked, raising his seraph blade.

Magnus flinched, but didn’t respond. He sent out a pulse of power and Alec stumbled, feeling a sense of déjà vu. He recognized this magic. It had felt the same way when they’d found Lorelai. Magnus stumbled from the center of the summoning circle, catching himself on the wall. He was breathing hard, the dark blue of his magic beginning to fade. 

“What did you do, Magnus?” Alec asked, eyes darting around the room. “What happened?” 

Izzy came sprinting back into the room, a pair of cuffs in her hands. The confusion on her face confirmed what Alec had been thinking. “The demons, they’re- they’re gone. I was sneaking past a pair of guards to get to these, and they vanished.”

Alec lowered the seraph blade, watching Magnus as he took a half step toward him. Magnus reached toward his head and pulled off the circlet, tossing it at Alec’s feet. “You were right,” he said quietly. “He was manipulating me.” 

Alec looked from the crown to Magnus, then lifted his blade again. He whispered an Angel’s name and brought the blade down onto the blue stone. The circlet shattered, releasing a wave of cold, blue energy through the room. The fluorescent lights came back to life as the magic faded. 

Magnus swayed on his feet as Alec approached him. He took the cuffs from Izzy, feeling numb. “Magnus Bane,” he said quietly. “By order of the Clave, you’re under arrest.”


	27. Epilogue

Magnus stepped into his loft, taking a deep breath. He shivered at the sight of the décor, all black leather and depressingly cold colors. He snapped his fingers, and nothing happened. He sighed and closed his eyes. The mundane way, then. The rich man’s mundane way, at least. He pulled out his phone and made a few calls. 

Hours later, the apartment was empty of furniture, other than his bed, and he was standing in his least favorite pajama pants with a bucket of yellow paint. He could ask Catarina to come over, but he wanted to make this place his home again, and he didn’t want it done by someone else. Besides, he wasn’t ready to face her again. At least the cleaning crew had taken away the stench of Sulphur and the hellfire ash. He opened the paint can and filled his tray, pausing at the sound of the door opening. He tensed, but his wards hadn’t sent up any warning. He turned, holding the paint can like a weapon.

Alec walked into the room wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, looking devastatingly handsome as ever. His expression was blank. “Catarina called. She told me that you were back.” He eyed the bucket of paint. “So they did it, then?”

“Cat could have told you on the phone. It was her.” He shrugged, turning back to his work, setting the pain can down as he grabbed his roller. 

Alec nodded, stepping a little further into the room. “The Consul told me that they’d spent a long time debating what to do with you. Some people wanted you locked up in the Gard for another few years, at least.”

Magnus shivered. “Not my favorite place to be. Believe it or not, with all the times I’ve been arrested, I’ve never ended up there before this little incident.” He paused. “Not that it wasn’t well deserved,” he said after a moment. “I wouldn’t have complained if they’d kept me down there.”

“Well,” Alec hummed, “Helen’s recovering. She spoke about how kind you were, when you woke her. That helped, I think.”

Magnus didn’t look up at him as he ripped open the roller packaging. He’d never painted a wall in his life. First time for everything, he supposed. He fought with the plastic, then fought with the body of the roller, trying to get the spongy brush onto the head of the thing.

“Binding your magic, though,” Alec’s voice was gentle. “That’s… A lot.”

Magnus froze. He remembered the pain of it. Catarina’s spells locking out his access to the part of him he valued more than any other. Well, almost any other. There was a band of symbols and runes around his wrist. It burned, a constant, unpleasant heat. She’d tried to be as gentle as she could, but binding magic was a tricky business. “Defensive magic only,” Magnus said quietly. “I can ward my home. I can protect myself. I can keep up glamours.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve had worse.”

He could see Alec nodding out of the corner of his eye. “I know you have. I remember.” 

Magnus straightened with a flourish, the roller successfully on the handle. “Yes, well, magic can’t fix everything.” He looked to Alec, expression open. “Some things are worth fighting for the mundane way.”

Alec watched him for a long time. Magnus couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. This would be the part where Alec nodded and left. He could feel good about checking in on Magnus, making sure he was okay. He’d fulfilled his duty as Head of the Institute, making sure that the Downworlder wasn’t trouble anymore. He’d go back to his life and leave Magnus here with a paintbrush and absolutely no idea what he was doing, letting him pick up the pieces alone.

Alec’s expression was neutral as he pushed up his sleeves and headed to Magnus’s haphazard pile of supplies. He grabbed a roller brush and pulled it expertly out of its packaging. “Yeah,” he said quietly. As he rolled the brush in the paint, his fingertips brushed against Magnus’s. Magnus could have sworn he’d felt a spark. “Some things really are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been my first, and very well may be my last, Malec fic. I want to thank you all for sticking with me through what has been an absolute roller coaster ride of the past few months. I hope that you're all staying safe and as happy as you can possibly be. Thank you for your passion, your interest, the fact that so many of you have read and commented and enjoyed the story. I appreciate you all more than I can say.


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